


If You Want To Play Games, I’ll Play…But I Play To Win

by Frau_Wilhelm_Klink



Series: From The Sunset, The Moon Will Rise [1]
Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965), Original Work
Genre: Angst, Corporal Punishment, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Developing Friendships, Discipline, Don't Judge, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Feels, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Regret, Revelations, Situational Humiliation, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-20 20:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 271,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frau_Wilhelm_Klink/pseuds/Frau_Wilhelm_Klink
Summary: DISCLAIMER:I don't own Hogan's Heroes or anything related to them in any way! Nor do I make any money from this.I'm just giving Colonel Klink a space to let out his frustrations with the ever-so-sly Colonel Hogan, all while trying to keep him in line.Spoiler:It never works for long! Hogan is more stubborn and headstrong than an entire herd of goats put together, and he's got a mulish streak a few miles wide.Klink is fed up with Hogan and his shenanigans. He’s decided that if Hogan wants to act like a child, Klink will treat him like one! And since Hogan is the senior POW officer and therefore responsible for his men, it’s not going to be a fun time for him. Let's just say he's going to enjoy sitting down a lot more, because with the amount of trouble he and his core team cause, those times will be far and few in between! :)Episodes will be referenced out of order. I reserve the right to blend different parts from different episodes and/or make stuff up. All German/other foreign words and/or phrases will be translated in order in the notes at the beginning of each chapter.This is my first fan fiction, so please be nice!
Relationships: Robert Hogan & Wilhelm Klink
Series: From The Sunset, The Moon Will Rise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656808
Comments: 73
Kudos: 40





	1. Colonel Klink Has Finally Had Enough!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the idea that Colonel Klink is sick of General Burkhalter and/or Major Hochstetter constantly chewing him out/threatening to have him sent to the Russian Front. So to prevent that from happening, he decides to take matters into his own hands. Anyone reading this should be aware that it's a punishment fic. Of course Klink is the disciplinarian, while Hogan is the unhappy recipient of any and all punishment. 
> 
> I decided to mix some non-sexual BDSM elements with Hogan's Heroes and this is what I got. I figured since Hogan is shown to be Klink's personal pain in the ass, Klink's only too happy to return the favor. Literally, in his case! Don't worry, there's always comfort for Hogan at the end of the punishment, along with some fluff! :)
> 
> If that idea offends you or it's just not your thing, please don't read it! Otherwise, read and (hopefully) enjoy it. Also, it should be noted that while Hogan and Klink's relationship in this story is strictly platonic, there **is** a bit of pre-slash that leads up to the sequel. (Which, as you may have already guessed, is definitely slash.) The pre-slash starts in Chapter 7, titled 'A Hollow Victory'. 
> 
> This is the first part of a two part series called _From The Sunset, The Moon Will Rise_. It is rated M for mature, and starts off in April of 1944.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colonel Hogan has caused trouble inside of Stalag 13 one too many times, efficiently pushing Colonel Klink a step too far. As a result, he finds out a new reason why Klink is called "the Iron Eagle".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Pickelhaube_ = Spiked helmet, used by German soldiers from 1842 – 1914.  
>  _Ja_ = Yes  
>  _Bitte_ = Please  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Schnell_ = Quickly/hurry up  
>  _Kraut/krauts_ = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
> 

**_ Inside Klink’s office… _ **

Hearing a knock on his office door, Colonel Wilhelm Klink looked up to see Colonel Robert Hogan breeze in. Hogan looked rather happy as usual, which just irritated Klink more. How dare he look happy! Didn’t Hogan realize the seriousness of the latest incident that had just happened? How serious blowing up someone’s house was? Apparently not.

“You wanted to see me, _Kommandant_?” Hogan asked.

Klink looked up with a glare on his face, which wasn’t an unusual look for him since Hogan had arrived at Stalag 13. Unfortunately, the man vexed him to no end with his carefree jokes and the cocky attitude he always seemed to have. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that Hogan seemed to think he could just waltz into Klink’s office **uninvited** most of the time. And on top of that, he made a habit of embarrassing Klink in front of his superior officers. Him, a loyal German officer!

Hogan apparently thought he could just play Klink for a fool whenever he felt it was convenient for him. Well, no more. Klink had had enough, and this latest incident was the last straw. He would teach this wily American colonel how to behave if it was the last thing he did. God only knew that General Burkhalter had called **him** on the carpet over this, screaming in rage and threatening to have him immediately transferred to the Russian Front. And unlike previous times, he had been deadly serious…even going so far as to already have the transfer papers with him. It had taken a lot of verbal boot-licking and agreeing to a single date with _Frau_ Linkmeyer before the fat Austrian had backed off. Needless to say, the tall German was decidedly unhappy.

Yanking himself out of his brooding thoughts, he replied, “Yes, Hogan. Come in and sit down.” Klink gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “And close the door. We need to talk.”

Hogan gave the _Kommandant_ an easy smile and sat down, tossing his crush cap over the spiked helmet on Klink’s desk as he did so. Klink growled and pointedly removed the cap before tossing it back to Hogan.

“Colonel Hogan, we have been over this many times and I am sick of telling you about it. You will show some respect while you are here in Stalag 13. Either hold your cap or set it elsewhere, but do not place it on my _pickelhaube_!”

Hogan raised an eyebrow. “Geez, calm down _Kommandant_. A little touchy today, aren’t we?” He flashed Klink a cheeky grin before setting his cap to the side of the helmet. “But you’re correct, of course. It’s not nice to disrespect someone on their own turf. So, I apologize, and I’d like to fix it so this never happens again.”

Now it was Klink’s turn to raise an eyebrow. This was an unexpected turn of events. “Hmm, really? Well, it is good that at least you show remorse for your actions.” He started to say more, but Hogan interrupted him.

“Sure, Colonel Klink. Since I can’t do what I want and you feel all disrespected and whatnot, I’ll leave! I’ll even do you one better and take my men with me. That way you can get some new prisoners who are appropriately ‘respectful’ to you.” Hogan made air quotes with his fingers and stood up, stretching as he did so. “Thanks for letting me know, sir. I’ll go tell my men to pack their stuff, so if you could just open the gates in the meantime for us –”

Klink stood up and angerly slapped his hand down on his desk. “Hogan, **sit down**! I did not dismiss you yet, and neither you nor your men are going anywhere. I am sick of your insolence and your American sense of humor! This is precisely why I’ve called you here. This time, you have gone too far.” Then Klink sat down, his face flushed and his heart racing. He supposed it had been too much to hope that Hogan would behave for once, and now the annoying American had confirmed his idea from earlier. He would have to be taught a lesson.

Hogan sat back down and had the nerve to look crestfallen. “It’s your call, sir. You’re the _Kommandant_ , but my men are gonna be so disappointed.”

Klink looked over at Hogan, eying him and trying to decide the best way to approach this. “That’s right, I am the _Kommandant_. Good of you to remember that.” Finally, Klink just decided to go with the straightforward approach. “You are the senior POW officer here, _ja_?”

Hogan looked at Klink like he’d lost his mind. “You know I am, _Kommandant_. Why do you ask? You forget that already or something?” Hogan had an uneasy tightening feeling start in his stomach. The last time Klink had asked him that, he’d brought that idiot Crittendon in to replace him. Needless to say, it hadn’t ended well.

Klink ignored the sarcastic remark and continued on. “And as such, you are responsible for your men; ‘your men’ being the behavior of all the POWs in this camp, correct?”

The tightening feeling increased as Hogan slowly nodded. “Yeah, but –”

Klink waved a hand and cut him off. “That is all I needed to know. I am aware of this fact already, of course, but I wanted to make sure that **you **were aware of it.”

Abruptly, Klink’s demeanor changed as he grinned nastily. “Now, I have work to do. I will see you tonight in my quarters at 2200 hours. (10:00pm) Dis-missed!” He gave Hogan a salute and returned to his paperwork.

Hogan stood up and looked confused. “Wait a minute, you called me here to just to confirm that I was the senior POW officer? But you said you wanted to talk to me. You feeling okay, Colonel Klink?”

Klink looked up at Hogan. “I do want to talk to you. But I have work to do. This camp does not run itself and Berlin is always sending forms to be filled out.” He rubbed his temples tiredly before the nasty grin re-appeared. “We have much to discuss, and we will...tonight. Now, I said dis-missed!” He pointed at the door. “Out!”

Hogan picked up his cap and frowned. “Fine then. See you tonight, I guess.” He gave Klink a return salute and left.

**_ 2200 hours, Klink’s quarters… _ **

Klink had just finished moving the table in front of the sofa out of the way when there was a knock at the door. He grinned. Now he would show that Hogan just who was running this camp! He opened the door and stood back, gesturing inside. “Ah, Colonel Hogan. So glad you could make it. I trust you had no prior engagements then?”

Hogan stepped inside Klink’s quarters and closed the door. “Well, I did have a date with a local girl…but your invitation was just so thoughtful, how could I say no to you?”

He grinned and put his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket. “Don’t worry, we rescheduled for next week. The escape committee’s already planned a diversion.”

Klink scowled at the American’s sense of humor, yet he would not give him the satisfaction of replying. Instead, he simply held out his hand. “ _Bitte_ , take off your jacket. I try to keep it warm in here. I will hang it up.”

Hogan was a bit puzzled at the show of friendliness – especially given their short but strange conversation earlier that day – but did as the _Kommandant_ asked him to do. “ _Danke_ , the warmth feels good.”

Klink carefully hung up the jacket and walked over to the couch, his long legs quickly eating up the distance. He sat down rather gracefully and motioned to Hogan to join him. “Have a seat, Hogan. I have decided on a new policy for the prisoners and you need to hear it.” He smirked as he said the words. “After all, **you** are the direct recipient.”

 _What’s ol’ Blood and Guts talking about now?_ wondered the American. The tightening feeling Hogan had had in his stomach earlier came back as he sat down next to Klink. As he did so, he noticed that the table had been moved. Klink’s ever-present riding crop was also nearby.

“Rearranging things, sir?” Hogan asked. “If you wanted decorating advice, LeBeau’s the man for the job, not me. Why –”

Klink interrupted him with a sharp glare. “I am not rearranging things, Hogan. As I said, I have made up a new policy for the prisoners, one that directly concerns you. So be quiet for once and listen!”

Hogan was taken aback at the uncharacteristic sharp tone of Klink’s voice but fell silent. He motioned for Klink to continue.

Klink nodded. “Better. Anyway, this is the – what is the English phrase – the long and short of it? Well, you get the idea. Essentially, you and you men have gotten out of control. You run around Stalag 13 acting like little children.”

He raised his voice a bit as he continued. “You constantly cause trouble for myself and my guards, and I cannot even begin to count how many ‘accidents’ your men have been responsible for. I have had more brass and top military officers visit me here in this camp than half of Berlin! And it stops tonight.” Klink’s voice had now deepened to a warning growl. “Do you understand me, Hogan? Tonight.”

Hogan heard the growling sound, but as usual he pushed his luck anyway. “ **My** men? Colonel Klink, I’m offended! We’re just simple POWs, how could we cause any trouble?” He shrugged and leaned back against the sofa. “As for the brass, is it any wonder they all want to visit such a friendly guy? God only knows the crazies in Berlin could use a sense of humor.”

But Klink wasn’t having it. He wasn’t buying Hogan’s ‘innocent’ act, because he’d seen it far too often before. “Hogan, do you take me for a fool? A _dummkopf_?”

As he saw Hogan about to open his mouth to reply, he held up a slender hand. “Do not answer that. In any event, I am not stupid. There have been far too many ‘accidents’ for this to be a coincidence anymore. But as I said, that will change. Let me tell you about my new policy.”

He crossed his legs and smiled as he spoke. “Since you and your men wish to act like naughty children, you will be treated as such. And I do mean **you** personally. From now on, any time either you or any POW in this camp causes trouble, **you** will pay the price Hogan.” Then Klink picked up his riding crop, playing with it absentmindedly while he talked.

Alarm bells were ringing in Hogan’s head, yet he sat there like the stubborn officer he was. If this was going where he thought it was, he knew he wouldn’t like what Klink told him. But surely he was mistaken, right? _Nobody in their right mind would ever punish an adult like that! It’s not normal,_ he thought.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on your point of view – Stalag 13 was anything **but** normal, and everyone here knew it. Feeling he had to say something to that statement, the American replied, “What’re you talking about, sir? If you’re going to toss me in the cooler, can I at least get a blanket? That place earned its name, I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh no, you will no longer have to worry about the cooler Hogan. Not ever again. Although you might very well beg me to go in there when I am done, as it will help cool off your bottom. But believe me, I am not that merciful.”

As Klink made himself more comfortable, he uncrossed his legs again and continued on. “What I mean is this: I have had Major Hochstetter **and** General Burkhalter on my back almost constantly, sometimes even at the same time. Despite what you may or may not think, I have grown fond of you. I have no desire to see you shot, nor suffer torture at the hands of the Gestapo.”

The older colonel made sure he looked his senior POW in the eyes as he talked. “So, this is what I am going to do from now on. For every time you or your men cause problems, I will tell you to come to my quarters. It will always be at this time, unless I have informed you otherwise earlier in the day. Once you arrive here and we have a conversation, you will receive a spanking from me.”

Klink paused to let his words sink in before continuing. “I also do not wish to embarrass you in front of your men, Hogan. That is why this will usually be late at night. But this behavior you persist in is foolish, and you are going to wind up dead if this sort of thing keeps up. Hochstetter would give anything – anything at all – to have you in his clutches, and the Gestapo are not the ones to toy with.”

The tall German shuddered just thinking about their methods of interrogation. “If you wish to act like a child, I will treat you like one. After all, you said it yourself in front of Burkhalter: ‘*We have the best daddy in the whole world.’ Do I make myself clear, Hogan? We will start tonight by solving the latest problem.”

The senior POW officer couldn’t believe his ears, as apparently the earlier alarm bells hadn’t been wrong. For once, he wished his gut instinct had been completely off! “With all due respect, _Kommandant_ , you’re nuts. It’s against the Geneva Convention to strike a prisoner of war and –”

But Klink had had enough small talk by now. “ **HOGAN!** I am not ‘striking’ you, as you put it, just to hurt you. I am spanking you as I would a child, because you **insist** on being a disrespectful, mouthy brat!”

Hogan paled as he realized exactly why the table had been moved away from the sofa. So he did the only thing he could think of. He proceeded to pull out his inner five year old to try and salvage the situation. That decision made, he gave Klink a sorrow-filled look and pouted. “But I didn’t do anything **wrong**!”

Klink signed. Stubborn as a mule, the American was. “Did not do anything wrong? _Mein Gott_ , Hogan, you blew up Burkhalter’s house with a rocket!” He was horrified by the fact that the American colonel didn’t seem to think blowing up a house constituted ‘doing something wrong’.

With that statement made, Hogan promptly looked offended. “Me?! **You** pushed the button!”

He refused to take the blame for this when it had been Klink who’d fired the rocket. And speaking of rockets, it shouldn’t even have been in Stalag 13 anyway! There were strict rules about what one could and could not do in within a prisoner of war camp, and hiding weapons there was on the firm ‘no’ list.

Klink shook his head, unwilling to let this go. “And that rocket was pre-programmed to head for England. As it did not, that means that somebody deleted the programming inside the rocket. Alternatively, it had to have been altered somehow. You and that cockroach were right by it the entire time, nearby the firewood barrel.”

The older officer gave the younger one a serious look as he made his point. “Incidentally, that ‘firewood’ barrel was never there before, nor has it been there since. I know you are up to no good most of the time, even though I do not **how** you do the things you do. But neither do I particularly care about that. Either way, you **will** behave so long as you are a prisoner in my camp!” he snapped angerly. “Now, be a good boy and lie over my lap. I do not have all night.”

Hogan stood up with a long-suffering sigh, stretched his muscles as he considered the situation. He hated to admit it, but Klink was a lot smarter than the prisoners given him credit for. He’d noticed the barrel’s removal, and he’d obviously observed some other things about them as well. That could be very dangerous for them if the German colonel decided to do some investigating.

Therefore, if Klink wanted to play his game, Hogan would play it. _Let the Kommandant have his fun_ , the senior POW officer thought. _He’ll forget all about this after tonight._ He was a trained pilot and spy, and he’d been specially trained to handle discomfort before he’d come here. And after all, how much stamina could an older guy like Klink possibly have?

After his mind was made up, the American colonel started to lower himself over Klink’s lap as requested. But before he could, the tall German held out a slender hand to stop him.

“Ah-ah-ah. Remove your uniform trousers first,” Klink told him. “You may fold them and place them on the coffee table.”

“Are you crazy? What kind of game are you playing at?” Hogan asked him indignantly. Klink had to be off his rocker if he thought Hogan would agree to that!

Klink grinned evilly. “Oh, no game at all. This is the same way my father punished me as a boy. I find it helps raise the embarrassment factor quite a bit, which makes things more effective.” Then he gestured to Hogan’s brown uniform pants. “ _Schnell!_ As I said before, I do not have all night.”

Hogan rolled his eyes at that explanation, but he unbuckled his belt and removed his uniform pants anyway. Then he carefully folded them and set them on the table before flopping over Klink’s lap. He would play the German officer’s game for the moment. Sooner or later, Hogan figured Klink would get distracted somehow. Or maybe he’d simply get bored of it. And later on, he could use whatever occurred to wring some favors out of Klink for his men.

“There, happy now?” he huffed.

Klink didn’t respond to the annoyed American officer, since huffing and pouting were to be expected at a time like this. He only made a small rubbing motion on Hogan’s back and replied softly, “This will hurt me far more than it hurts you.”

The messed up part was that he actually meant it. His senior POW officer might be the one in physical pain, but the necessary act of administering discipline would cause him to feel the same thing. Even if was only emotionally, pain was still pain.

**__ **

**__ **

**_ And it begins… _ **

“Oh, I’m sure,” Hogan said snarkily. He didn’t have time to say anything else, because that’s when it began. Quick as lightning, Klink raised his hand and let it fall squarely onto Hogan’s butt. **SMACK!**

“Ow!” Hogan exclaimed as he jerked in surprise. Surprisingly, that had actually stung! “Hey, watch it!”

Yet Klink didn’t bother to reply to that comment. Instead, he just continued raining swats down on the upturned bottom of the American. After about ten minutes of those rapid-fire swats, Hogan began to question his decision. Klink had more strength in those slender hands of his than Hogan had figured he would have, and it was starting to hurt. “Colonel Klink, c’mon. This isn’t funny anymore!”

“Funny? You think this is funny?” Klink picked up the pace and smacked Hogan’s behind harder. “Hmm, really? Insolent American brat. I will show you funny!”

Then he paused long enough to grab the waistband of Hogan’s briefs, yanking them down swiftly to expose his senior POW officer’s bare bottom. Everything else was covered, but the target in question was now perfectly defenseless. The skin on Hogan’s rear end was already pink, but Klink was far from done with the younger officer.

Hogan gasped in shock as it happened, not expecting such an action. “Hey, what the –” But that’s all he got out before Klink started spanking him again.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK**! “Ow! Colonel Klink, stop!” he said, deciding to try a new tactic.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Oww! I don’t think this is funny at all.”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Owww! Honestly, I really don’t! Stop!”

But Klink wouldn’t stop. He would break Hogan’s stubborn, rebellious streak if he had to sit here all night. He was tired of getting chewed out by General Burkhalter, and he was also tired of being threatened by the Gestapo. Come to think of it, he was tired of always having his ass on the line in general. _Well, for tonight it is Hogan’s ass on the line instead!_ he thought.

His target now woefully unprotected, Klink kept on smacking Hogan’s bottom. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

When Hogan started to wiggle around, Klink held him in place easily with one arm. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Then when he tried to kick his feet instead, the tall German locked his legs in place with his own, effectively pinning him. All the while, he just kept spanking his senior POW officer. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

After about fifty minutes in actual time – but what seemed like forever to him – Hogan wasn’t sure how much more of the punishment he could take. He’d been here for what seemed like ages, and the older officer was showing no signs of letting up any time soon. His butt felt extremely tenderized by now, and it also felt swollen to twice its normal size.

In actuality, it wasn’t, but he had no way of knowing that. It’s not like he had a mirror or anything at the moment to check, after all!

 _Now I know why Klink said I’d beg to be put into the cooler,_ the American colonel thought mournfully. _This really sucks. Who knew the kraut had such strength and stamina?_

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Owww, owww, OWWW! Klink, **stop!** ” Hogan cried out as his eyes started to water. “I’m sorry!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** The swats still continued to land on his rear end as Klink spoke to him again.

“No, you are not. But you will be. That I can promise you, Hogan,” Klink replied.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “And it is **Colonel** Klink to you!” he stated as he continued to spank Hogan unmercifully.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Believe me, when I am done you will wish that it had never occurred to you to cause trouble for me.”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “We’re the same – OWW! – rank! C’mon sir, be reasonable. This – OWW! – isn’t fair!” pleaded a slightly desperate Hogan.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK**! “OWWW! Please!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK**! “Sir, knock it off! Please stop!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “While you are benefiting from my discipline, I outrank you. And I would keep your voice down, Hogan. That is, unless you wish the entire camp to hear you being spanked like a naughty boy,” Klink sneered.

The room was all but soundproof due to both its location and the wood used, but Hogan didn’t need to know that just yet. So the tall German decided to let Hogan think that possibility over while he was being punished. Perhaps it would teach his senior POW officer some humility.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** It had been just over an hour by now, but the thick-headed American was still unwilling to break. Which was just fine with Klink, as the release of pent-up frustration towards the other colonel had been a long time coming. And it was important for him to cause Hogan to cry tonight, so that he would remember the consequences if he misbehaved like this again.

It was also important to do in the hopes that a lesson would be learned from all of this. It honestly hurt the older man to have to discipline the younger one this way, since he liked Hogan as well as one **could** like an enemy. But for stubborn people, the most effective lessons were always learned the hard way. Klink had learned that as a young boy personally, and he’d never forgotten it.

While he wasn’t sure how children were disciplined in the States, he certainly knew how German parents did it. Needless to say, it had proven quite effective, both for Klink himself and each of the few friends he’d had growing up. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** He harbored no doubts that it would continue to be effective in the future either.

By now, Hogan’s butt was on fire. If he had sat in lava, it couldn’t have possibly hurt any worse. It was also painfully clear that Klink wouldn’t let up until he thought Hogan had learned his lesson. Yet he hadn’t become a colonel by not being hard-headed, so he held onto his composure as best as he could.

“You act like they can’t hear me now. OWWW!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “How is this benefiting me? OWWW! This really hurts,” the senior POW officer griped.

Klink decided to tell Hogan about the almost-soundproofing of the room, the one that only he’d known about until now. “I assure you that they cannot, for this room is almost soundproofed. You would have to be standing right outside the door to hear anything.”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “It is supposed to hurt, and you benefit by learning from it to become a better person,” the tall German explained irritably.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Tell me Hogan, am I getting through to you?” he demanded as he continued the punishment. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You got through to me a long time ago, you asshole.” It slipped out before Hogan could stop himself, and he clamped his hand over his mouth. That was the wrong thing to say, as it was proved a few seconds later.

“Insolent child! It is clear to me that you are having a wonderful time, instead of learning a valuable lesson. Well, no matter. I will fix that,” the German officer threatened.

Then Klink adjusted his hand, making sure that only his fingers spanked Hogan instead of the entire thing. By doing that, he was able to hit the tender sit-spots that were where the curve of Hogan’s buttcheeks met his thighs. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW! I’m sorry, Colonel Klink!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWW! Sir, I’m really sorry!”

Hogan had never been spanked a day in his life, since his parents didn’t believe in it. As a result, he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. Unfortunately, that also meant that he couldn’t hold out against it any longer. So after another minute had passed, he finally cracked under the pain and began to cry.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWW! I didn’t mean for...for General Burkhalter’s ho…house to blow up. It...it was an accident!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK**! “OWWW! Please, I’m **sorry!** ”

Feeling ashamed, Hogan laid there over Klink’s lap and sobbed out his next words, not even feeling the smacks on his rear end anymore.

“I...I feel terrible, and I hope hi...his family wasn’t h...home. I…I’m so…sor…sor…sorry.” In addition to everything else, he also felt helpless in that moment. The American colonel was so completely wrapped up in the flood of emotions he was experiencing, he didn’t even realize that Klink had finally ended the punishment.

**_ The aftercare… _ **

“Hogan. Hogan, are you okay?” _Well, that was a stupid question,_ Klink thought. He could clearly see Hogan wasn’t okay. He’d finally broken his unruly senior POW officer, but Klink felt no satisfaction in doing so. Instead, he only felt sad that it had come to this.

Awkwardly, he decided to rub small circles on Hogan’s back as he tried a new approach. “Robert…Robert, listen to me. It is okay, your punishment is over now. You handled it very well.”

Hogan sobbed and hiccupped. “I…so sorry…never meant to hurt anyone.” He couldn’t even form a full sentence at the moment, because he was truly broken. All the remorse he had from what they’d had to do on various missions, as well as all the worries he had about his men when they went out without him was flooding in.

And most importantly, all the times he had used the German officer with zero regard to his welfare or thinking of his feelings hit him. Hogan had never thought Klink would care enough about him to discipline him and try to help him – even if it were indirectly – in a weird way. Sure, it obviously benefited the older man…but the release of pent-up emotions was also incredibly cathartic for the senior POW officer.

Klink was at a bit of a loss as to what he should do. While he had meant to discipline the wayward American, he hadn’t meant for Hogan to have a complete breakdown! An emotional release, yes. A breakdown, no.

In an attempt to comfort him, Klink continued to rub in small circles on Hogan’s back and tried to soothe him, wanting to calm him down.

“Robert, breathe. Just breathe. Focus on listening to the sound of my voice. Breathe in…and out. In…and out.” As Hogan began to calm down, Klink allowed himself a faint smile. “Good boy. Come on, up you get.”

Then he carefully pulled up the American colonel’s briefs and helped an unsteady Robert Hogan to his feet.

“Robert, I know it hurts now, but it really is for your own good. Sit down to me and I shall explain it to you.” As he spoke, he placed a soft pillow from the couch next to him and helped Hogan to carefully sit on it.

“German discipline is no joke, _ja?_ ” Klink said, giving the younger officer a half-smile. “I told you I run this camp with an iron hand,” he added in one of his rare attempts at making a joke.

The attempt wasn’t lost on Hogan, even in his present state. He hissed in pain as he sat down, as he didn’t particularly want to do so at the moment.

Still, he was unwilling to be rude right now. His butt was **really** sore and he was sure he’d never sit comfortably ever again. For that matter, he didn’t want to be sitting down right now!

“Yeah, no shit. I see why they call you the Iron Eagle if your wings are that tough!” the American replied. He tried to laugh too, but he ended up hiccupping instead.

Klink raised an eyebrow. “Language, Robert,” he said, but his tone was mild. To his surprise, Hogan immediately looked apologetic. Perhaps the discipline hadn’t been lost on him after all.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Hogan sniffled, feeling like he needed to blow his nose. “I really am. We…I mean, **I** never thought about anyone being home. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Oh God, please tell me nobody was there!”

He began to cry again, but softly this time as he laid his head against Klink’s shoulder. He was beyond disgusted with himself at the sudden show of weakness, but he really didn’t give a damn at the moment. His rear end seriously hurt! And on top of it all, he was thoroughly exhausted by now. Klink could really spank, and the unexpected emotional release had sapped his energy.

Wordlessly, the tall German handed Hogan a box of tissues. He hadn’t missed how Hogan took the blame for his men’s actions onto his own shoulders, but he chose to say nothing about it. “No, thankfully nobody was home, Robert. As you know, General Burkhalter was here, while _Frau_ Burkhalter was out and about.”

He gently stroked Hogan’s hair, needing the other colonel to regain his composure. It wouldn’t do to have him return to his barracks in hysterics, after all. Or at least, that was the lie he told himself.

Even now, Klink was unwilling to admit to himself that he cared about Hogan’s feelings. _And even if I do, it is only because he is the only officer here of my own rank._ Yes, that was the excuse he would stick to for now. 

“I have a question for you though, sir. If your dad did this to you, how in the world did you ever sit comfortably again? My butt feels like it’s swollen to twice the normal size,” inquired the senior POW officer.

He was still reeling in the emotional release he’d had, wondering if Klink had known that he needed it. _It’s possible,_ Hogan mused. _We’re both the same rank, even if we **are** on opposite sides of this damn war. _

Klink gave him a half smile and replied, “The pain wears off in a day or two, but the bruises will last about a week.”

When he saw Hogan’s astonished look, he just shrugged. “I normally would not have spanked you that long, but you have quite the mulish streak, Robert. I was beginning to think I would have to use the crop before you would surrender to your emotions. Or my belt.”

With a chuckle, he added, “Which reminds me of something you should be aware of, Robert. I want you to consider this your first and only warning. The next time we have this ‘discussion’, you **will** feel my riding crop. And if we have to have it a third time, it shall be my belt instead. One way or the other, I shall get my point through that thick skull of yours.”

Nodding to show that he had heard that grim proclamation, the younger man asked warily, “Okay, but I’ve got another question. You’re not gonna call the Gestapo about this for any reason, are you? Because sometimes it just seems like they show up here for no reason at all, and I’d like to have time to tell my men goodbye if they’re coming to drag me away.”

Klink breathed a heavy sigh as he considered that. “No. I do not like them any more than you do, and I do not want them near Stalag 13 at all.”

After a pause to consider his next words, the _Kommandant_ explained his previous announcement. “Of course, various offenses carry various methods of punishment, Obviously, some things will require a harsher punishment than others.”

Then his gaze became stern as he looked at Hogan. “Now that you know the score, I suggest you tell your men to behave. Unless you do not fancy sitting down ever again, that is. Do you understand me?”

He looked down at Hogan, meeting the American’s brown eyes with his blue ones. “There are almost a thousand prisoners here, and you are the one leading them all. I cannot afford to have that many men left unchecked.”

Hogan gulped as the German colonel’s eyes met his, unable to decide what to make of this side of Klink. On one hand, the older man seemed to genuinely care about him and his needs. He had disciplined him like a worried but loving father, rather than a sadistic asshole. On the other hand, he’d also just admitted that he had left bruises on the American’s behind.

But he would think about that later. The mere mention of Klink’s crop and his belt caused the younger officer to feel rattled again, so he buried his face in the tall German’s sleeve to hide that fact. Damnmit, he would not keep crying.

 _Pull yourself together, Rob!_ said his inner voice. _Quit acting like a little kid and grow up._

Responding to the question that had been asked of him, Hogan responded, “Yes sir, I understand what you’re saying perfectly. But what do you mean, ‘surrender to my emotions’?”

Klink let out a weary sigh and stroked Hogan’s hair. “Please do not play dumb, Robert. I think it is rather obvious what I meant.” He shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes. _Americans!_ “You are visibly shaken, and rightly so. Any discipline done right will bring both pain and emotional relief. I always found it rather cathartic, myself.”

 _Well, that’s good news, at least,_ Hogan thought. _At least I know I’m not the only one to turn into a quivering mess! It doesn’t make it any easier to bear, but it’s comforting knowledge to have._ Finally, he let go of Klink’s sleeve and looked up with watery eyes. Then he stood up, wiping the tears away with a tissue as he did so.

“Well, in that case _Kommandant_ , I’d be happy to return the favor for you. But I’ll need to borrow your riding crop for a little while, since I don’t want to wear out my hand,” he responded with a faint smile.

Klink growled in annoyance and gave Hogan a very light swat on his butt, which elicited a surprised yelp from the American officer. “Cheeky boy! If you can backtalk to me, you are perfectly fine. Now, off you get. It is late, and long past curfew to boot.”

The German colonel proceeded to stand up too, handing the senior POW officer his uniform trousers from the table as he did so. Then Klink waited for him to put the pants on and buckle them. Walking him to the door, he handed Hogan his bomber jacket as well. “Hogan?”

Hogan looked up at Klink after zipping up his jacket. “Yeah, Colonel Klink?”

“You may use the shower in here until the bruises fade. As I said before, I have no wish to embarrass you in front of your men. Nor do I want them to ask you any uncomfortable questions,” Klink replied. “But the water will still be cold, because I cannot give you any special treatment.”

He paused briefly, debating the action in his mind before he gave the American colonel a quick hug. “As I already said, you handled your punishment very well tonight. I admit, I am impressed by you. However…” The tall German let his words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

“I meant what I said earlier to you. This insolence of yours will stop, one way or another. So I suggest you figure out something to keep your men in line.” Giving Hogan a quick salute, Klink said, “Dis-missed!”

Hogan returned the salute with a proper one of his own for a change. Then he opened the door and left, rubbing his rear end as he walked. After seeing that, Klink smiled to himself before closing the door with a sigh.

With a sigh, he rubbed his temples. _God save me from overgrown children disguised as adult men,_ he thought. He sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t have to punish his senior POW officer again, but somehow he doubted it. Hogan was stubborn as a mule, and so were the men he led. But the older colonel had been serious when he’d issued that warning, and a German officer never went back on his word.


	2. Apparently, Klink Was…Serious? Uh-Oh…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, people don't like it when they think you've personally arranged for them to be shot. At least, that's Colonel Klink's views on it. While Colonel Hogan never intended for things to go that way and protests that he's innocent, he's in trouble again for it regardless. This time, Klink takes things up a notch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander's office  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Guten abend_ = Good evening  
>  _Bitte_ = Please  
>  _Schnell_ = Quickly/hurry up  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for ‘Stammlager’, which is short for ‘Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager’. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Kommandanten_ = Commanders  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Wunderbar_ = Wonderful  
>  _Kraut/krauts_ = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night  
> 

**_ Inside Stalag 13, near the Kommandtur… _ **

A few weeks after their previous ‘discussion’, Colonel Hogan walked towards the _Kommandtur_ with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The butterflies he didn’t even know lived there had taken flight and were going absolutely crazy. Colonel Klink had demanded his presence, which Schultz had informed him while sounding anxious. _“Colonel Hogan! Colonel Hogan, the big shot wants to see you at once. He is verrrrry angry about your monkey business! Please, Colonel Hogan, go and see him in his office. He is very unhappy, and when the big shot is unhappy, he makes everyone else unhappy. And he cuts the food rations to the guards when he is unhappy as well.”_ Which was typical of Schultz; he was always thinking of food. In any event, considering what had happened, the German officer had a right to be furious!

Entering Klink’s office, Hogan timidly knocked and, for once in his life he waited for Klink to tell him he could enter. He wasn’t sure if Klink had forgotten about what had happened a few weeks ago, but Hogan wasn’t about to remind him if he’d forgotten. That spanking had hurt like nothing else he’d ever experienced, and he’d dealt with the Gestapo!

Klink looked up upon hearing the knock. “Enter!” he called out. As the door opened, he saw Hogan step in warily, looking a bit nervous. Klink gave a smirk. “Ah, Colonel Hogan. Come in, come in. Have a seat.” It hadn’t escaped Klink’s notice that for once, Hogan had knocked and actually **waited** for permission to enter. _Perhaps his punishment a few weeks ago really taught him a lesson, Klink thought._

Then he frowned as he remembered the reason he had sent Schultz to find his bratty POW officer. _Or not,_ his inner voice said. Remembering how broken and upset Hogan had been that night – but steeling his resolve to do what he felt needed to be done – he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Hogan, do you know why I called you here? Why I am – how do you say – ‘in a tizzy’? Have you any idea?” Klink ground the words out but attempted to stay calm as he locked eyes with the American’s dark brown ones.

Hogan looked up and noticed the _Kommandant_ ’s steely-blue eyes on him. Klink looked livid and not in the mood for any games. Gulping, he looked away. He had a feeling he knew exactly why, but he didn’t want to incriminate himself. In the spirit of that decision, he replied softly, “I don’t know, _Kommandant_ , why don’t you tell me?”

Klink noticed Hogan looking away. He looked ashamed, and a small part of Klink was happy to see it. Perhaps this issue could be solved quicker than last time. Closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to reign in his temper, he opened them and bellowed, **“YOU WILL LOOK AT ME WHEN I ADDRESS YOU, COLONEL HOGAN!”** Clearly, his attempt had failed him.

Well, so much for that brilliant idea. Hogan sighed and looked the now royally pissed off German in the eyes. “Sorry, Colonel Klink. I wasn’t trying to challenge you or anything. In the wild, when two alphas locks eyes it means –”

Klink slapped his hand down on his desk. “This is not the wild! This is a prisoner of war camp and **you** are a prisoner of war. A prisoner of war who, instead of trying to challenge me, tried to have me killed instead! And almost succeeded!” Klink was breathing heavily now, but he was also enraged. How dare this unruly POW officer try to have him killed? Didn’t he treat them well enough?! And this was the gratitude he got. Well, he would show Hogan who was the boss around here! A small part of him also felt betrayed by the American, but he pushed it down. There were bigger issues at hand right now.

Hogan flinched at Klink’s screaming. Normally, he could deal with an irate Klink; he’d done it before. Klink being furious didn’t bother him, it was **why** he was screaming that bothered Hogan. He **had** tried to set Klink up. Granted, it was just supposed to be to get some papers from the Underground, not get Klink killed. Unfortunately, Klink had been sentenced to death by a firing squad since the _Luftwaffe_ thought he was an Underground agent. Schultz and Hogan had barely got the _Kommandant_ off the hook in time, even as they worked together. Schultz had even told him that they were using a monocle for a bullseye! The memory brought a smile to Hogan’s face, which was a bad idea given the situation.

“Ah, I see. So, you think it is funny. I see how it is, Hogan.” Klink glared at him and Hogan quickly wiped the smile off his face. “I see you did not learn from our last ‘discussion’ then.” He smirked. “Very well, I shall have to re-educate you.”

Hogan shook his head frantically, trying to steer this conversation back on track. “No! No _Kommandant_ , you don’t understand. I was just remembering how Schultz said the firing squad used a monocle as a bullseye. So since you wear a monocle, I…” He trailed off as Klink continued to glare at him. “You know what, never mind.” As Klink mentioned their previous ‘discussion’, Hogan’s stomach felt like lead. He subconsciously put his hands over his butt to protect it. “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll pass, since I remember it very well, sir.”

Klink saw the shift in his senior POW officer from almost frantic to visibly nervous and smiled nastily. “Really? I do not think you do. You will meet me tonight at 2200 hours again in my quarters, Hogan. Dis-missed…and do try not to cause any more trouble until then, hmm?”

Hogan felt like he was going to faint as the blood rushed from his head to his feet. Damn it, and he had been doing so well with his men! They hadn’t caused any trouble for three weeks, a new record from them. “But Colonel Klink, I…” As Klink looked up and scowled, Hogan shook his head. “Uh, you know what? Never mind, sir. I’ll see you then.” He saluted Klink back and left, his hands still on his butt.

Klink just shook his head. Tonight, he would take things up a notch. One way or another, the POWs in this camp would learn discipline!

_** 2200 hours, Klink’s quarters… ** _

Klink had just finished moving the table again when he heard a timid knock at the door. He shook his head and strode over to the door to open it. Klink was certain that he had never been this stubborn in his life. He knew if he had been, **his** father would have literally killed him. A German father didn’t mess around, and – like it or not – a father figure was what Klink was going to become to Hogan. _Or at least his disciplinarian._

An awkward situation to be sure, but it needed to be done. He would not have the prisoners in Stalag 13 running wild! Such a thing was dangerous for everyone here, but General Burkhalter had recommended him personally for this post. And he would not let his commanding officer down. Klink would prove to everyone yet that he wasn’t worthless in the end.

“ _Guten abend_ , Colonel Hogan,” he greeted the American colonel with a smirk. “Come in, come in; you are letting the heat out.” Klink smirked. “Not to worry though, as I will soon add plenty to your bottom. At least that part of you will be warm.” He watched Hogan squirm as he spoke and felt satisfaction. _Good, this brat needs to learn some discipline!_

Hogan blushed at those words as he heard Klink’s German accent grow thicker. It wasn’t a regular thing that happened. Over the last three years Hogan had lived at Stalag 13, he’d only heard it happen a handful of times. Unfortunately, in each occurrence it had happened when the _Kommandant_ was particularly upset.

A good indicator to have of Klink’s mood generally, but at the same time not a good indicator of Hogan’s ability to sit down in the near future! Still, his mom had always said that good manners were always important no matter where he went. Remembering that, he managed to croak out a reply. “Good evening, Colonel Klink,” he said as he closed the door. Then he removed his crush cap and bomber jacket, hanging them up on the coat rack as the German officer talked to him.

Klink gestured to the couch. “Come on then, let us sit down. We will discuss this matter like adults and after that, I will spank you like the bratty child you are.” He walked over to the couch and gestured for Hogan to sit next to him. “ _Bitte_ , have a seat Hogan. Enjoy sitting while you can.” He smirked again, clearly enjoying the American’s embarrassment and discomfort.

Hogan sat down and pouted. He couldn’t help it; he hated being spanked like a little kid! It wasn't pleasant, and he had never been more grateful then he was now that his parents preferred extra chores as a deterrent instead. Although he couldn’t deny that did indeed deserve it in his subconscious, his conscious mind refused to accept it and tried to find ways out of his current predicament. He crossed his arms and glanced up at the smirking German colonel. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you _Kommandant_?”

Klink’s smirk switched to a nasty grin, the kind that Carter would call ‘nasty happy’. “Indeed I am, Hogan. Though I do not enjoy having to treat an officer of my own rank like a child, it does give me pleasure to attempt to tame your inner brat.”

Hogan shook his head. “*You’re an evil man, Colonel Klink.” He continued to pout, not caring if it pissed Klink off. _Who cares? If things go the way they did last time, by the end of the night I won’t be able to sit anyway!_ he thought.

Klink nodded, an evil smile playing across his lips. “*Yes, I am. And it makes me feel warm all over.”

Hogan sighed. “So what do you want to discuss, sir? You said I tried to have you killed. I’d like to point out that that’s not true. You got sentenced to a firing squad because the _Luftwaffe_ thought you were an Underground agent. How is that **my** fault?” Clearly that monocle of his wasn’t working if Klink thought a tan and brown uniform looked like a blue-gray one now!

Klink lost his smile and gestured for Hogan to stand up. “Oh, do not fret, my dear Hogan. We will discuss everything after you are over my lap. Now, do as you did last time and drop your uniform trousers.”

Hogan stood up, but something in him refused to cooperate the rest of the way. So he stomped his foot. He actually stomped his foot like a little kid, which surprised even him. “I don’t wanna, and I’m not gonna!” _God, when did I regress to five years old?_ he wondered.

Klink rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling, as if he was praying for some patience. “Colonel Hogan, I do not have all night. _Schnell!_ How do you say it in English – oh yes, hurry up!”

“Well, maybe you should schedule these ‘discussions’ for earlier in the evening then,” Hogan sassed him before he covered his mouth with his hands. _Oops. Way to go, dummy. That was a **brilliant** idea_, his inner voice said. _**NOT!**_

Klink raised an eyebrow. “Really? You are so eager to get started with your punishment then?” Quick as lightning, his hand snaked out and grabbed Hogan by the wrist. Holding him by one hand, he used the other hand to unbuckle Hogan’s belt. His long fingers made quick work of it – and the zipper too – before he yanked the pants down to Hogan’s ankles. Then in one deft movement, he flipped the startled American over his knees and onto his lap. Klink pinned Hogan’s legs between his own like the last time before maneuvering the colonel’s wrist carefully so that rested on the small of his back. All of this happened within about fifteen seconds.

Hogan blinked, stunned and unsure of what had just happened. Who knew Klink was that quick? He was no slouch himself in the speed department, but whoa. The tall German colonel made him look slow. In an attempt to save his dignity, he did the only thing that came to mind. He craned his neck and looked up at the tall German. “My compliments, Colonel Klink. You’re quicker than I gave you credit for.” He managed a smile, even though there was nothing humorous about his situation. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

Klink smiled, a real one this time and not a smirk. While he appreciated the compliment from the American and sensed it was actually genuine, he would not be deterred from his task. “ _Danke_. And yes, I have actually. I have two young nephews that I often watched before the war. They were not as bratty as you, but they were close enough. Which reminds me...” He grabbed the waistband of Hogan’s briefs and yanked them down just enough to expose Hogan’s butt as he had before.

“Hey! What gives? You didn’t do that last time,” Hogan complained. He wasn’t quite sure what complaining was going to do at this point, but he had to try.

**_ Questions and answers… _ **

Klink shook his head. “Actually, I did.” He raised his hand and brought it down on Hogan’s bare butt. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Or have you forgotten so quickly?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Perhaps I did not leave a good enough impression on you previously?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! No, I meant you didn’t do that right away last time…sir,” Hogan added hurriedly after he saw the look on Klink’s face.

“You are correct, my dear Hogan. But tonight is different, and tonight things will go much worse for your poor bottom.” Klink toyed with his nearby riding crop and took satisfaction in the way Hogan’s eyes widened, his face paled somewhat and his breathing sped up slightly. “You did not forget my parting words last time, did you Hogan?”

Hogan felt a little queasy at the sight of the horse-taming tool. “No, of course not. I…I, uh…that is, I hoped…” His face flushed and he trailed off. What could he say? Hell, what could he do? He was pinned down good and proper by the German colonel. Not a situation he ever planned on finding himself in, to say the least. _Let’s face it, you aren’t going anywhere until Klink lets you up,_ his inner voice said. _Well, at least you’re already lying down,_ it added in a snarky tone.

“You though perhaps I was joking? I can assure you Hogan, a German officer never jokes about such things. And we **always** keep our word.” Klink picked up his crop now and gave it a few experimental swings, making a whistling sound in the air. This caused Hogan to gulp and look away as the other officer spoke. “You know, Hogan,” he said causally, “I have never actually used this riding crop to administer a spanking before. So you will be its first victim. That is _wunderbar_ for you, yes?”

“Oh yeah, I’m just thrilled. Couldn’t be happier, sir,” Hogan deadpanned. _If you don’t shut up, I’m leaving you here to fend for_ _yourself_ , his inner voice threatened. _This isn’t the time or place to mess with Klink!_

Klink allowed himself a small smile that from his current position the American officer couldn’t see. Hogan insisted on running his mouth as usual, and it would be his bottom that would pay the price for it. At the rate he was going, Hogan’s bratty nature would even cause Klink to enjoy it!

“Insolence! You will be very happy indeed in a minute or two then, Hogan. Now, please give me your other arm so that I may pin it back here.” Klink used the crop to tap the small of Hogan’s back.

Hogan blinked, unsure of why Klink wanted to pin his other arm. “Any special reason, sir? I kind of like it right where it is.” Without warning, he felt three smacks from Klink’s hand on his bare behind. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Ow!”

“Besides **that** reason, you mean?” Klink inquired. “And beside the reason that I am in charge of this spanking, not you?” He waited a moment, but no smart-aleck reply was forthcoming from Hogan. “It is simple, Hogan. The crop will sting quite a bit more, and if you were to move your hands in the way of it, you could get hurt. As I said before, I do not wish to injure you, only discipline you.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Now give me your hand.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! Okay, okay! Kinda pushy, aren’t you?” Hogan grumbled, even as he maneuvered his other arm so that Klink could pin it.

Klink nodded. Now they were getting somewhere. “Very good. I will teach you the meaning of discipline yet.” He set the riding crop down and felt Hogan breathe a sigh of relief. “Do not get too comfortable, Hogan. I merely want to ask you some questions first, and I cannot get proper answers when you are crying your eyes out. All things will happen in due time.”

Hogan, who had been temporarily relaxed when the riding crop was set down, tensed up again when he heard Klink’s words. “Thanks for that, sir. Way to make a guy feel better.”

Klink sighed. “I am not here to make you feel better, I am here to get answers from you.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “And I will get them,” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “one way,” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “or another.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hogan tried to squirm away, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Ow, ow, ow! Well, ask your questions then.”

Klink nodded. “Very good. Now, tell me; why exactly did the _Luftwaffe_ think I was a secret agent?”

Hogan scowled. “How should I know? Do I look like a member of the _Luftwaffe_ to you?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Ow! I’m in the Army Air Force, damnmit. Not the _Luftwaffe_!”

 _Stubborn American!_ Rolling his eyes but choosing to ignore Hogan's choice of language for now, Klink phrased his question in a different way. “Then let me assist you in figuring out your answer. The _Luftwaffe_ said I supposedly had secret Underground papers in my coat pocket. I do not know any members of the Underground, so how would I get any such papers? The only one who is a constant presence in my office is **you** , Hogan.”

The German colonel felt he should explain how he felt, because the troublemaker over his lap obviously needed some help to understand where he was coming from. “Yet you claim you are only ‘a simple POW’. That means to me one of two things: you are either an Underground agent, although I don’t see how that could be. Or,” Klink paused for breath before continuing, “you forged papers to get me into trouble. Now which one is it? And I want the truth, Hogan! No tricks,” the _Kommandant_ warned his unruly charge.

Hogan’s mind raced, because he was between a rock and a hard place. If he said he was an Underground agent, he would sacrifice not only his life but that of his men. Not to mention the lives of the entire Underground. But if he said he forged the papers, he would be a liar. Besides that, Klink would want to know who forged them, since he knew Hogan was no forger. He was quickly trying to figure out what to do when Klink spoke again.

“I grow tired of waiting, Hogan. Perhaps you need a reminder what the definition of truth is?” He raised his hand and brought it down on Hogan’s butt three times in quick succession. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Owww! No, I remember now, I…” Hogan closed his eyes. _Forgive me, Newkirk, for what I’m about to do._ “Newkirk! I got them from Newkirk. He’s an excellent forger.” Hogan swallowed, disgusted with himself. Then he decided to do the only thing he knew in order to improve the situation while easing his guilt too.

“But I ordered him to do it. I’m his commanding officer, and I take responsibility for his actions. Please don’t mention it to him, he’s not real fond of _Krauts_ …I mean, Germans! I swear, I meant Germans!” Hogan added hastily. Yeah, he might use the derogatory name in his barracks, but this wasn't his barracks. And given his current position, it wasn't the time to be rude either!

Klink shrugged dismissively, ignoring the derogatory term. “I am not interested in Corporal Newkirk. Like you said, you are his commanding officer. It is you whom I am interested in.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “But why would you do this to me?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “** What have I ever done to you, Hogan?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **“** I try and be fair to you.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “And this is the thanks I get?” The words were bitten off sharply as Klink rained the blows down on Hogan’s behind. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Answer me!”

Hogan wasn’t able to think overly well right now. What was it about Klink that made Hogan feel bad for him? The older man’s strong hand rained the blows down on his poor bottom and the senior POW officer squealed under the intense torrent of spanks.

He couldn’t help it…he was new to this type of discipline, and he was still adjusting to it. And there was no let up or any time to adjust to the painful sensation. “Ow, oww, owww! Oww, owww, OWWW! Stop it, sir, please! I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you!” Klink paused in the spanking and looked at Hogan questioningly.

With a sigh, Hogan answered the question. “The truth is, sir…you were never supposed to get hurt. Nobody was. It was just supposed to be a distraction while we tried to escape. We bribed Schultz with a few chocolate bars and after we got away safely, I was gonna call from the Hofbrau or something and tell Schultz to get you out of there. I had Newkirk make up some more fake papers that cleared you of any wrongdoing. It was just supposed to be a temporary detainment, that’s all. It got out of hand.” Hogan swallowed the lump in his throat. “And I apologize for that, _Kommandant_.”

Klink didn’t look convinced of this story. “And yet I sat there, with the firing squad practicing outside my window. They were using a monocle as a bullseye!” His voice was shaking from anger, yet he also sounded hurt. “Besides, if you were going to escape, why did you not do it? You visited me in the cooler, if I recall correctly.”

Hogan nodded. If Klink ever found out the real truth, he’d likely make sure the American colonel never sat down ever again. Of that, Hogan had no doubt. He also knew when the war finally did end and he came all the way clean with Klink, the German officer was going to be beyond peeved. Yet when that time came, Hogan decided he would submit to whatever punishment the _Kommandant_ felt was fair.

After all, he and his team had caused heaps of trouble for the man. Usually, it was only his fast thinking that had kept Klink from being shot so far. Now by which side… **that** was always a toss-up, and a subject for a later debate. Klink was also correct in the fact that he did try to be decent to the POWs. Hogan had both seen firsthand and heard about life in the other _stalags_ , so he felt lucky to live at Stalag 13.

Pushing those unpleasant thoughts from his mind, Hogan continued his tall tale. He was in it too deep now, and backtracking wasn’t going to help at this point. “Yeah, I did. Carter accidentally tossed the forged papers in the fire, and there wasn’t time to make new ones. So I had to come up with a new idea quickly."

Feeling bad for dragging Carter into this mess as well, Hogan resolved not to bring the young sergeant any further into it. Yeah, Carter loved explosives (or anything that went boom, really) but the American officer was the man in charge; he gave the orders.

That decided, Hogan continued to lie through his teeth as he spoke again. "I made a basic explosive with a timer…and no, I can’t tell you how, so please don’t ask…and planted it in that general’s car you were going to get into. Then I got Schultz to spring you from the cooler. That way, when the car blew up, you looked like a hero for saving the general and he’d drop the charges against you.”

Hogan drew in a shaky breath before speaking. “Regardless of our sides in this war, I like you well enough, Colonel Klink. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, and I would never let anything happen to you. I hope you know that, whatever you do next.”

Klink considered Hogan’s words before he spoke again. The younger man definitely sounded sincere, but either way it didn't really matter. Klink still had a job to do. He had promised Hogan a spanking, and a spanking was just what he was going to get! “I thank you for your honesty with me, Hogan. And I appreciate your feelings towards myself and my methods. However, I will not falter in what I promised you. You understand that, correct?”

Klink’s voice grew soft and slightly sad. “I am still very upset with you, because so much could have gone horribly wrong with your deranged plan. And think about this too...had I been killed, Berlin would only send another officer to take my place here. Many of us are not as tolerant as I, so they would take issue with some of the prisoners...such as Sergeant Kinchloe."

While Klink didn't outright say that said issue would be due to race, he didn't have to. His meaning was clear. "And on top of that you are not stupid either, despite your many attempts to pretend otherwise. You are a clever man, Hogan, albeit a mouthy one. There are many other German _Kommandanten_ who would simply shoot you for 'trying to escape'. And it would not matter if you actually were trying to escape or just returning to your barracks. Do you understand what I am saying?" His voice held a question in it, and he hoped Hogan would pick up on what he was saying without actually saying it.

Hogan winced. He felt terrible for lying to Klink, especially after the older man had just thanked him for his honesty. Now he was definitely going to come clean about everything after the war with the German officer. And yeah, he got the unspoken message loud and clear: not all of the German officers were nice like Klink and Schultz! Even though Schultz wasn't an officer, he was still a decent guy who 'saw nothing' on the Heroes' end quite a bit. He wasn't a fool; he knew a lot of people wouldn't work with Kinch simply because he was black.

Racism under Hitler's regime ran rampant in Germany, and segregation was still in effect in the United States as well. Despite everything, he was touched that Klink gave a shit whether he lived or died. He knew he could be the tall German’s personal pain in the ass most of the time, and had their roles been reversed, he would have had Klink transferred to a different _stalag_ after a week. _Even if right now, he's_ ** _my_** _personal pain in the ass_ , Hogan thought ironically.

The fact that the _Kommandant_ even **let** Hogan stay at Stalag 13 – despite everything odd that went on due to the Unsung Heroes’ efforts – spoke volumes about his character and moral fiber. All of this resulted in a huge eye-opener for Hogan. He also didn’t like the guilty feeling he felt inside his heart as his stomach clenched tightly.

 _It’s called your conscience,_ Hogan’s inner voice said. _Try listening to it._ “I understand, sir. Do what you feel you need to do and get your anger out of your system. I won’t fight it, but I can’t promise I won’t cry out. It's a natural instinct, you know. Oh, and sir?”

Klink had raised his hand to resume the spanking, but stopped momentarily at Hogan’s question. “Yes, Hogan?”

“Thanks for taking the time to do this…you know, to try and help me. It really is a nice emotional release, you know.” Hogan managed a small smile as he spoke. “Although I've gotta say, it’s not fun getting there.”

**_ A new level of pain… _ **

Klink closed his eyes briefly as he replied to his stubborn senior POW officer. “You are welcome, Hogan. Rest assured that I do not do this for anyone else.” Then he opened his eyes, brought down his hand and resumed the punishment.

For about two minutes, there was nothing but the sounds of hand meeting buttcheeks. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Owww, owww, owww! Ow, OW, OW, OWW, OWW!” Hogan cried out. His eyes began to water, but he wasn’t crying yet. Then suddenly, Klink stopped. Hogan was hopeful that the punishment was over. That hope quickly died as Klink picked up his riding crop, and his heart sank as he realized that Klink wasn’t done with him yet.

“I am going to use the riding crop for the rest of your spanking, Hogan. Be a good boy and try to hold still so you do not get hurt. Hopefully, this should not take too long.” Klink had a grim look as he raised the crop and angled it carefully.

Before Hogan knew quite what to expect, the leather tip of the crop struck his rear end three times in quick succession. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** There was no pain for a few seconds, until suddenly agony spread from the spots it had struck.

Hogan shrieked, and he couldn’t help it. This was a new level of pain! “OWWW! What in the holy hell is that? OWWW!”

This time, Klink didn’t bother to admonish Hogan for his choice of language. He remembered quite well how badly it hurt, especially on an already ‘warmed up’ bottom! “That, Hogan, is a riding crop. The leather of the crop hurts quite a bit more than the hand, but nowhere near as bad as a belt. Trust me,” Klink said.

“I have been on the receiving of all three…in **one** session. My father was quite creative when it came to discipline, and – like you are right now – I was extremely stubborn.” The older man lifted the riding crop again. “Brace yourself,” he said before striking Hogan’s butt with it again repeatedly.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWW, OWWW, OWWW! Holy shit, please no –” Hogan pleaded. The leather tip of the crop seemed to sting more and more with each swat.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK!** Since it was already quite tenderized from the earlier swats, Hogan felt like his butt was on fire as the spanking continued. “Oh God, I’ll never sit –” 

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK!** “Have mercy, please!” Hogan was wailing now, but still the tears didn’t fall. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Sadly, there was no mercy for the American colonel. Klink continued spanking his senior POW officer for a good half hour. The only sounds were the smacking of the riding crop hitting flesh and Hogan’s cries of pain. And the younger officer still would not let himself cry. But the German colonel felt he was going to have to stop soon irregardless, because the entirety of Hogan’s buttcheeks were purple and bruised.

He had to hand it to Hogan; he was stubborn as a mule and refused to give into the pain he was surely in. However, there was one spot in the area Klink was spanking that he had mostly neglected...and by ‘mostly’ the tall German meant the skin there was only a medium red, instead of purple like the rest of his bare bottom.

Shaking his head and muttering in German something about children with mulish streaks, the older man stopped the spanking long enough to gently let the crop caress the purple skin. Hogan hissed in pain at the touch, but still refused to say anything.

And that was when Klink let the leather tip of the riding crop caress the sit spots that were always the most tender, the ones that were merely red. “Stubborn troublemaker,” he said disapprovingly before beginning to spank those areas. He hoped Hogan would crack soon, and he wasn’t disappointed. It took about a minute and a half before the waterworks began.

“Oww, oww! OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!” The tears were finally falling from Hogan’s eyes now, and he let himself cry openly. Indeed it was freeing to let the pent-up emotions out, though he desperately wished there was a better way to do it. Who knew that Klink was such an effective disciplinarian?

Hogan now had great sympathy for Klink’s nephews and felt bad for them. Yet there wasn't much time to do, so since he felt worse for himself at the moment. The lava fire he’d felt in his butt last time seemed to have increased and brought some friends too! _It's a good thing my men can't see me now,_ he thought bitterly. _The great Colonel Hogan_ – _the infamous Papa Bear_ – _across the lap of our Kommandant being spanked like a naughty boy!_

**_ Establishing a nickname… _ **

That thought made him both embarrassed and sad, and all he could do was sob pitifully. He began to hiccup. Therefore – as before – he didn’t notice that Klink had ended the spanking. All Hogan could do was feel sorry for himself. “Sorry…like you…never hurt you,” he managed to say. Slowly, Hogan became aware of Klink rubbing circles on his back in a soothing manner. He tried to move his hands and discovered, to his surprise, that he could. Apparently at some point Klink had let his wrists go.

“Robert, Robert…it is okay. You did very well. You are such a good boy, it is okay,” Klink tried to soothe Hogan as he had done the previous time. Once again, the American had managed to impress him. Under his father’s discipline, Klink himself had broken long before Hogan had under him.

And it made him wonder – not for the first time – if the Allies would truly win the war. _If all of the American officers have Hogan’s resilience, they could take on a tank and still walk away!_ Then Klink shook his head. “Robert, come on now. It is okay.” He carefully pulled Hogan’s briefs back up, wincing slightly at the hiss of pain he heard. “Come on now, up you get.”

The German colonel helped the American one sit carefully on the pillow next to him. Klink gave him a small smile as Hogan rested his head on Klink’s shoulder. While he truly hated to cause the wily officer such pain, he did note that it seemed to help Hogan a lot emotionally. He also had noticed that the other POWs had been very well behaved for about three weeks after last time!

He wrapped an arm around the American, stroking his hair and generally offering him the comfort Klink himself had always been denied after any sort of discipline. _“Get up and get out of my sight, Wilhelm! A true man does not snivel and whine from pain, he uses it to make him stronger!”_ Klink could still hear his father’s ugly words ringing in his head.

“Robert – stubborn, troublemaking Robert – why must you insist on vexing me? Can you not just behave and keep your men in line? Do you enjoy pain, perhaps?” Klink himself didn’t, but he knew there were those out there that did.

Hogan looked up at Colonel Klink with a look of disbelief. _What kind of question is that?_ “Enjoy it? Are you fucking kidding me? It hurts like a bitch!”

“Language, Robert,” Klink scolded him gently. “But then, why? Why do you **insist **on causing trouble? Do you understand what havoc you wreak when you and your men start problems in the camp? Would it not be easier to just make do here until the war is over? Other _stalags_ are far worse, believe me; I have seen them.”

Klink blew out a breath of hot air as he described life like he saw it. “I try to do the best I can here for everyone, but it is not easy. Everyone here hates me, even my own men. I am not, as you might say, a hard-ass by nature. World War One has forged me this way, and I can only do as I am ordered. What else could I possibly do? I do not agree with Hitler’s policies, myself. I only wish for the war to end, one way or another.”

The older man’s expression was thoughtful as he finished speaking. He had never said his feelings aloud before, and he wasn’t entirely sure why he had done so now. Then a look of horror came over his face and he went pale. “Oh no. I did not just say that. I never said that, do you understand me?” Klink looked stern, even as his voice shook. “I mean it, Robert; that is considered high treason!”

Hogan looked up from where he had buried his face in Klink’s shoulder. The admission had somewhat surprised him…while it was obvious that Klink was no Nazi like Hochstetter and his goons, he hadn’t known that the _Kommandant_ felt that way. _I suppose we all have our own problems to deal with,_ he thought. However, he saw Klink’s face go pale and heard his voice shake. Being the smart-aleck he was, Hogan decided to take a tired and true approach. “Said what, sir? *I hear nothing, nothing!”

Klink smiled faintly, but he still looked slightly worried. “While I appreciate your impression of Schultz, I am very serious. If anyone else heard that…if anyone even saw us like this right now…” He trailed off as his voice shook even more. In addition to that, Hogan could feel the arm wrapped around him trembling.

Hogan blew out a breath and parroted Schultz again. “I mean it. *I see nothing, I was not here, I did not even get **up** this morning!” He shifted his weight and hissed as a new pain attacked his butt. “Right now, I really wish I **didn’t** get up this morning. I’m rather fond of sitting down, you know. Yet you’re making doing so an interesting experience, Colonel Klink.”

He gave Klink a solemn look, not joking around for once. “But I was serious too. What you or I say here, stays here; I won’t say anything if you don’t.” Hogan gave Klink a half-smile as he talked. “But to answer your question earlier, I actually don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble just finds me, it seems.”

Klink sighed in relief. “ _Danke_ , Robert. Then we have a gentlemen’s agreement, then?” He held out his hand for Hogan to shake. “I can believe that,” he replied dryly. “You do have a knack for attracting it.”

Hogan cocked his head, even as he shook Klink’s hand and stood up. “Yeah, we do. There’s just one problem: I’m here, but where’s the other gentleman?”

Klink growled, but it was more of a sign of frustration than a warning. “ _Mmmmpf!_ Bratty troublemaker.” He swung his arm as he usually did, ending with a very light swat on Hogan’s rear end. Even so, it caused a small yelp from the thoroughly chastised American. “Come on my brat, it is time for you to return to your barracks.”

Hogan had the nerve to look offended at the nickname, even if it was accurate. “I’m not a brat! I resent that, Colonel Klink.” Given how things had happened tonight, his uniform pants had never ended up folded neatly on the coffee table. Instead, they were still around his ankles. Since that was the case, he reached down and pulled them up.

Klink just raised an eyebrow at him as he finished fastening the buckle. “No, you resemble it. Would you care to have another round with my riding crop and test that theory, brat?” He smirked and picked up the crop as if he were actually serious.

Hogan’s face paled and he shook his head quickly. “No! No, that’s okay. I’ll pass…really.”

Klink grinned. “Then say it. Say you are a brat.” He enjoyed messing the other colonel, just like Hogan messed with him so often.

Hogan rolled his eyes. “Do I have to? C’mon sir, that’s embarrassing.” He didn’t know why Klink was fixated on this tonight, but he wasn’t thrilled about it.

Klink said nothing in reply, opting to continue giving the younger officer a hard time instead. He toyed with his crop and waited, his gaze never leaving his troublemaker. Watching the senior POW officer’s reactions was entertaining and not something he often got to enjoy doing.

Hogan sighed. “Fine, fine! I’m a brat,” he huffed as he folded his arms across his chest.

“And what else?” Klink prompted. God help him for even thinking it, but Hogan was so cute when he acted like a sullen little boy. He really did remind the older man of his nephews at times!

“What do you mean, what else? You only said ‘brat’ and I admit I am…I admit **to** it, I mean,” Hogan corrected himself hastily. _Why do I feel like I’ll still want to even **talk** to Klink even after the war is over? _he thought. The thought should have either disgusted him or given him cause for concern, but it didn’t.

Now it was Klink’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, you are a brat.” He didn’t miss the last part of Hogan’s corrected sentence, and it made a twinkle appear in his blue eyes. “Let me give you a hint, and I shall see if you were listening earlier. I called you a bratty what? It begins with a ‘T’.” Yes, Hogan was cute when he was like this…but even cuteness had its limits.

Hogan closed his eyes and whispered something Klink couldn’t hear as he put his hands over his eyes. _Oh no, my young brat. You will not get out of this that easily!_ Klink thought as he made a show of putting his hand by his ear. “Repeat that, please? I could not hear you.”

With his eyes still closed and his hands still over them, Hogan repeated what he’d just whispered. “You said ‘troublemaker’.” Why couldn’t the tall German just let this go? He was like a dog with a piece of meat in that regard; he refused to give up.

Klink smirked and replied, “Very good. Now put it all together. And look at me when you speak.” He had to admit that he loved getting a little of his own back over the American.

Hogan lowered his hands and opened his eyes obediently, but promptly counteracted that obedience by mulishly saying nothing. Deciding to help motivate him, Klink took a few test swings with the crop, using different angles and speeds.

Hogan saw what Klink was doing and blushed, recalling the feel of that crop punishing him earlier, as well as the circumstances which led to it. He didn’t think Klink would **really** spank him anymore tonight, but his butt was definitely too sore to test that theory.

So instead he looked at Klink, folded his arms and went into full-blown pouting mode. “You called me a ‘bratty troublemaker’. Can I go now, sir? I was already tired, and you wore me out more.” Hogan’s lower lip was stuck out, his arms were folded across his chest again and he wore a sulky look on his face.

Klink smiled again, enjoying the sight of his brat pouting. “Indeed. You wore me out too.” He handed Hogan his bomber jacket. “If it is any consolation, Hogan, you are my favorite and **only** bratty troublemaker.”

Hogan slipped on his jacket and cheekily said, “Can I call in some backup for that or something? I feel selfish hogging **all** your attention.” Then he jammed his crush cap back on his head, the way he always did.

Klink shook his fist in the air as he said, “Keep talking and you shall get more of it than you planned on!” And while he might have made the threat, it was an empty one and they both knew it. “Now, _gute nacht_ Hogan.”

“Good night to you too, sir. And by the way…” Hogan looked at Klink meaningfully. “I meant what I said earlier. I really do appreciate you taking the time to ‘help’ me, even if the entire process of getting there sucks. And I hope…I hope you’re not angry with me anymore.” His voice had dropped to a near whisper as he looked down at his feet awkwardly.

Klink groaned. Hogan would surely make the remainder of his hair fall out if he was here long enough. And he looked so lost and uncertain in that moment that Klink found himself giving the American a hug as he had the last time. _Damnmit! Are you becoming soft or what, Wilhelm?_

Klink ignored his inner voice and spoke. “I am no longer angry with you, Hogan. But try and behave. Because I meant what I said before. If there is a next time, I will use the belt on you. And that will be unpleasant for both of us. Truly, just try…alright?”

Hogan flashed him that mischievous grin, the one that meant he was surely scheming something. “No promises, _Kommandant_. But I’ll make an effort, okay?” He saluted Klink and said, “Pleasant dreams…and enjoy being able to sit comfortably on your bed. I know I won’t be able to sit comfortably on mine!” As Klink returned the salute, Hogan opened the door and exited Klink’s quarters.

Klink watched Hogan leave, then closed the door. He ran a hand through what was left of his hair and scowled before groaning again. _That brat will either be the death of me, or he will get us both acquainted with a firing squad!_ Turning off the light, Klink went to change for bed. Hopefully, Hogan would behave himself…at least for a little while.


	3. A Very Sorry & Contrite American Colonel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...Colonel Hogan has really done it now! He risked his life and Corporal LeBeau's, which Colonel Klink is _**not**_ happy to learn about. Meanwhile, Klink learns more about his trip to Paris than he wants to know, and understandably, he's beyond pissed.
> 
> He contemplates calling up Major Hochstetter, but Hogan manages to talk him out of it. However, every favor has a price that must be paid. Can Hogan afford the cost that’s asked of him to keep his men and his operation safe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show._**  
>   
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Oflag_ = Short for _'Offizierslager'_ , which translates to ‘Officer's camp’  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for _‘Stammlager’_ , which is short for _‘Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager’_. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Ja_ = Yes  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Jawohl_ = Yes sir  
>  _Halt!_ = Stop!  
>  _Wehrmacht_ = The collective name of the German armed forces from 1935 – 1945  
>  _SS-Reichsführer_ = Leader of the Reich SS (Heinrich Himmler’s title)  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _Bitte_ = Please  
>  _Kriegsmarine_ = The German name for their Navy  
> 

**_ Inside the Kommandtur, outside of Klink’s office… _ **

_It hasn’t even been two weeks since the last time something happened! Why me? Why did I listen to LeBeau’s crazy idea about that agent?_ Colonel Hogan’s heart was racing as he knocked on Klink’s office door. After their last two ‘discussions’, Hogan already knew he wouldn’t be able to sit properly for a while after tonight!

He just knew Colonel Klink would be extremely upset about all of this. Who wouldn’t be in his shoes?

It was one thing for Hogan to mess with Klink by himself, since he did it all the time. However in this case, he’d gone and gotten the Gestapo involved too! Not members of the Underground in disguise either, mind you. They had been honest-to-God ‘shoot you first and ask questions later’ members of the Gestapo.

Not to mention that they’d stolen the _Kommandant’s_ staff car and scared Klink half to death. Making Klink think that Himmler himself had showed up while he was locked in a jail cell in Paris’ Gestapo headquarters had that effect…especially since the tall German hadn’t done anything wrong!

But the cherry on top was if he wanted to get technical about it, both him and LeBeau had ‘successfully escaped’ from Stalag 13. That last one would mean Klink’s perfect record ‘no escape’ record was destroyed if it had been reported. That record was the only thing that the German colonel seemed be truly proud of, and the younger colonel had almost shattered it. It was also the only thing that kept General Burkhalter from transferring Klink to the Russian Front.

This Hogan knew, since Burkhalter had said it in front of him on more than one occasion. He shuddered at the idea of what could have gone wrong, which was almost everything, like usual for most of his plans. Overall, he thanked his lucky stars that fate had been on his side. The added fact that the Germans were so terrified of their own government was a huge bonus, and it often came in handy for the Unsung Heroes’ operation.

As all of these memories flowed through Hogan’s mind like a movie, almost all of his courage left him. While the American colonel wasn’t a man who backed down from anything – ever – he felt like there was no time like the present to start, right? Klink had been simply furious last time, and that was over a firing squad! Okay, he could agree that being left to contemplate your own death was a horrible thing.

But being left to contemplate your own death **and** anticipating torture? Hogan was well aware of both how ‘hospitable’ the Gestapo could be, as well as their renowned ‘creative’ interrogation techniques, having been their unwilling guest before he’d arrived here. He also knew that this time, he had gone too far. And he wasn’t looking forward to the end results of his mistake!

With his mind made up on that matter, the remainder of his courage joined the large group of it that had already gone. He just couldn’t handle this conversation right now, so he spun on his heel and headed for the door. Hogan was eager to go back to his barracks and crawl under the thin blanket to get warm. That way, he could wait for the older man to calm himself down. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for that to happen, and he could try to reason with the older man at that point. Alternatively, spending the rest of the war under the blanket in his bunk suddenly sounded like a great idea!

Hogan turned to the beautiful secretary, who was smiling at him. “Hey, Hilda? Tell the _Kommandant_ I’ve got some urgent business to take care of, yeah? I’ll –”

Hogan was interrupted when he heard an annoyed “Enter!” from Klink’s office. Pretending he hadn’t heard it, the American waved to Hilda and walked towards the door. His hand was on the doorknob, just mere inches from blessed freedom. As soon as he got out that door, he’d be home free.

And that’s when heavy bootsteps were heard as the office door quickly swung open. Standing there – and looking ready to spank him within an inch of his life – was none other than the current _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13. It was Colonel Klink, and Hogan was indeed grateful in that moment that looks couldn’t literally kill.

Damn, but Klink moved even faster when he was pissed off. And he was undoubtedly pissed off now. Hogan tried not to think about just how he knew Klink could move quickly at any other time, since that wouldn’t help him to stay calm and composed. _Focus on the situation at hand, Rob,_ he told himself. _You need to calm Klink down, and you need to do quickly!_

“ **HOOO-GAAAN!** Are you deaf now?” Klink’s words were sharper than any blade and colder than ice. He jabbed a long, slender finger at the inside of his office. “I do not know where you think you are going, but when I send for you, you **will** come and you **will** obey!”

Hogan slowly turned around at the sound of Klink’s voice, his heart sinking. Oh yeah, Klink was mad. Yet ‘mad’ was too polite a word to describe the German’s mood. ‘Livid’ would still be too soft a description, but it was more accurate. Despite everything, his stupid mouth still shot off of its own accord.

“Woof, woof,” he replied sarcastically, trying to distract himself. His stomach muscles were clenching unpleasantly as he desperately tried to figure a way out of this meeting. “But really, you’re gonna talk to me like that? I’m not a dog, _Kommandant_ , and –”

Klink sliced a hand through the air sharply to silence him. “That is true. A dog listens far better,” he sneered. “In my office! **NOW**!” he yelled. Then he stood to the side and waited for Hogan to pass.

Hilda looked at Hogan quizzically, for she had never seen her boss this upset. He shrugged at her, trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing. “Cancel that request, I guess. See you later, Hilda.”

He straightened his shoulders as he walked toward the office, but a sharp glare from Klink made them slump as he shuffled inside. _Well done,_ his common sense said sarcastically. _Bravo!_ He heard mocking applause in his head as it mocked him. _Klink’s already beyond livid, and **you** decide to antagonize him because you can’t keep your smart-ass comments to yourself. I hope you know that you deserve whatever you get._

Mentally snarling at that unhelpful part of him to shut up, Hogan quickly sat down in his normal chair as so to keep the inevitable target of Klink’s wrath protected. He didn’t think that anything would happen to him right now, not where anyone could walk in on them or even hear it. But he wasn’t taking any chances. Deciding that it was also best to put some distance between him and his self-appointed disciplinarian, he scooted the chair away from the desk.

Klink all but slammed his office door before briskly walking behind his desk and slamming his palms on it. He debated whether or not he wanted to sit down as he glared icily at Hogan. The younger colonel was holding his crush cap in front of him like a shield and attempting to become invisible. That sight alone would have been funny if he wasn’t so angry.

“So.” The older colonel came out from behind his desk and slowly walked in a circle around Hogan, sizing him up as he thought about what to say next. “Colonel Robert Hogan does it again.”

His voice dripped with anger, and his German accent was thicker than Hogan had ever heard it before. Klink was actually difficult to understand right now, and normally Hogan understood the him just fine. The German officer never used his rank and both of his names together at the same time either, so this was clearly serious.

“A thick-headed, stubborn troublemaker who will just **not** listen to me, nor learn how to behave!” By that time, Klink had come full circle and slammed his palms on his desk again for emphasis.

It took every ounce of self-control Klink had not to grab Hogan’s arm and march him across the camp to his quarters, irregardless of what anybody else thought. The only thing that stopped him from doing it was the knowledge that everyone out there would see them, which meant that the prisoners would likely riot in protest of their commanding officer’s treatment. And he didn’t need any more problems at Stalag 13, damnmit!

But oh, how Klink longed to do just that…followed by spanking his unruly troublemaker until he could **never** sit down again. _And I do mean ‘never’,_ he thought angrily. He would discipline the sly American every day if he had to, but he would get his point across!

 _What is **wrong** with Hogan? _the tall German thought. _Is he insane? He not only left the camp somehow without any of the guards seeing him, but then he drags another person into his shenanigans? Does he not know that escaped prisoners are typically shot on sight?_

Judging by the continuous death glares he was receiving from the _Luftwaffe_ colonel, he hadn’t succeeded in becoming invisible. And Klink walking around him like that wasn’t helping his nerves! Sighing, he debated his next move as he looked at the older man. Was it bad that he actually preferred the semi-affectionate term ‘brat’ to ‘troublemaker’? _But not in a romantic way or anything like that! It’s just...well, Klink’s usually teasing me when he uses that term is all. There’s nothing weird about wanting things to stay on friendly terms, right?_

Looking over at the German officer, he flinched slightly at what he saw in the other man’s eyes. This wasn’t their usual games of teasing, going back and forth as Hogan baited him. There was no joking around as Hogan got Klink to give him valuable information on accident. No, this was a hardened soldier, the man that Klink must have been in World War One. A man who, at the moment, could give the SS goons a run for their money in intimidation. And unfortunately, all of that ire was directed at him.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Klink sneered. “Or have you finally run out of excuses, Hogan?”

As the American colonel opened his mouth, Klink shook his head before dropping in his chair with a sigh. He buried his face in his hands and spoke, but it was muffled.

“Um…what did you just say, sir? I couldn’t understand you.” Hogan really didn’t want to know, since he was sure it meant nothing good for him. But at the same time, his curiosity couldn’t be denied.

Klink lifted his head and sighed, looking quite tired and done with it all. He massaged his temples as he gave Hogan a weary glance. When he spoke again, the anger was gone from his voice. Instead, it was instead replaced by resignation. “I said, why do even I bother? Why do I even try?”

The older man gave Hogan a quick glance. “Obviously, you do not care to change your behavior. You insist on causing me problems at every turn. To be frank, I cannot understand why you are even here. As an officer, you really should be in an _Oflag_. Yet my life has been nothing but one big headache since you arrived. And I am done with it.”

With a sigh, Klink spoke with a resigned tone of voice. “And transferring you to another _stalag_ would do no good, since I have no doubts you would just begin your mischief anew there.”

He had considered his options and didn’t like the only one that was left. “I suppose I should call up Major Hochstetter and tell him to come get you as soon as he is able. He can take you to the Hammelburg Gestapo headquarters and take over responsibility for you.”

The mere mention of that idea left a bitter taste in Klink’s mouth. If there was one thing he had always able to do efficiently, it was protecting his prisoners. And yet he had managed to fail at that too! _I can already see the triumphant look on Hochstetter’s face when he shows up,_ Klink thought with disgust as he continued on.

“I cannot stand him, you understand. Neither can some of the members of his special ‘club’. But I see no other option anymore. I cannot handle this stress, and I cannot handle **you** , Hogan. I have tried reason. I have tried the cooler. And I have tried punishment. Yet you persist in this foolishness, and I can do no more to help you. I cannot try to protect a man who insists on putting himself in harm’s way with his tomfoolery!”

Klink’s voice rose as he expressed his frustration with the younger man and the reasons behind his chosen course of action. If he was spineless enough to turn the American officer over to the likes of Hochstetter, he felt Hogan at least deserved to know why.

Then the tall German shook his head. “I know you and I do not always see eye to eye. Yet I have to think of **all** the prisoners, not just you. And I must think of the men under my command as well. Perhaps if he has you – the man he ridiculously keeps claiming is Papa Bear – he will leave Stalag 13 in relative peace.”

His blue eyes fell upon the younger man, his expression full of pain and pity. “I am sorry, Hogan. Truly, I am. But I have the needs of many to think of.”

 _And I wish there was some other way, Hogan. I will never forgive myself for this,_ Klink thought. He had no clue how he was going to inform Hogan’s men of this, nor how he would explain why he’d done it.

Even though he wasn’t obliged to tell them **anything** , the older man knew how it felt to have decisions made for you and not be told why. After his current senior POW officer was gone, Klink would at least do Hogan’s men that small courtesy. It was the least he could do, considering he was well aware of the irate major’s temper and unwarranted vendetta against Hogan. Thus, he knew that it wasn’t likely that Hogan would survive the war once he had left Stalag 13.

The American colonel’s emotions were bouncing all over the place as he kept silent for once and listened to the tall German speak. He knew he was actually supposed to be in an _Oflag_ , because in this country, officers were separated from enlisted men. Yet some important general had ordered him to be placed here instead.

And he only knew that much because the Gestapo officer who’d taken the phone call had kept repeating the words _“Ja, Herr General”_ and _“Jawohl, Herr General!”_ It would have been easier to solve the mystery if the officer had mentioned a name, or if he’d been close enough to hear the other end of the conversation. Regrettably, he’d been chained to a metal chair across the room at the time, only half-conscious.

Frankly, Hogan owed his life to whoever that mysterious general was. The agents in Hammelburg hadn’t been happy with his refusal to give them anything other than his name, rank and serial number. One had put his hand on his gun holster threateningly, while the other one had picked up a few rather nasty looking items to use on him.

They’d been in the process of heading towards him with them too, unpleasant grins on both of their faces. He’d been awake enough to see that much, but he couldn’t have stopped them even if he’d wanted to. And the chair had been bolted to the wall, so it wasn’t like he could’ve even tipped it over or something. Not that would have helped anyway, mind you.

But that fateful phone call had changed everything for him. The next thing he knew, a sharp _“Halt!”_ had rung through the air, followed by rapid-fire orders in German being barked by the senior Gestapo officer at the two others. And they still hadn’t mentioned a friggin’ name!

Hogan spoke fluent German and normally would have understood exactly what they said, except that his mind had still been foggy from their ‘interrogation’. Well, if you could even call it that. Luckily, the word ‘halt’ was easy enough to understand. Even in German, it apparently held the same meaning as its English equivalent.

He’d been untied from the chair and yanked roughly to his feet. His hands had been chained in iron manacles behind his back, with matching leg irons on his ankles. Then he’d been all but dragged outside and stuffed in the back of a black truck with the bold SS runes painted on the side in white. One of the agents had sat next to Hogan with a loaded pistol pointed at his heart. They’d arrived in record time at Stalag 13, where they’d then turned over custody of him to a clearly confused Colonel Klink.

The German officer had asked the Gestapo agents why a full colonel was being assigned to his camp instead of an _Oflag_. But the answer had been a vague _“Because the general said so. Call himself yourself if you require more details.”_ How Klink was supposed to call a general when he didn’t know their name was beyond him. The American officer just chalked it up to German bureaucracy issues.

Thankfully, the goons had left right after that. Hogan couldn’t say he was sorry to see them go as he’d been processed and assigned to Barracks 2. After that, he’d settled into life the senior POW officer at Stalag 13. It wasn’t ideal by any means, but it beat his previous treatment at the Gestapo headquarters any time.

And after meeting Major Hochstetter months later, Hogan was eternally grateful the irritable man hadn’t been the one in charge of him that day. Given how much they clashed, he highly doubted he would’ve lasted too long before the Gestapo officer shot him.

But the rush of memories quickly faded into the background as Hogan continued to listen. _Huh? He’s transferring me? No, he can’t do that!_ Hogan thought angerly. Theoretically, the American supposed that actually wasn’t true though. He was only a prisoner of war, after all. So he kind of had to go wherever they sent him.

Hogan’s anger also faded as shock replaced it. _He’s handing me over to that lunatic? No, no!_ Klink had always tried to protect all of his prisoners as best as he could, so that didn’t make any sense. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two Germans barely tolerated each other, so what was going on here?

The answer to that question was soon forthcoming as the older man spoke. _So, wait…Klink’s transferring me into Hochstetter’s custody because he feels like he can’t protect me? What the fuck kind of logic is that?_

None of this was adding up, so Hogan was panicking as Klink began to reach for the phone. As a result, he didn’t hear the part about him supposedly being Papa Bear. _I can’t let him do that! I don’t care about me, but my men, our operation…no!_ He grabbed Klink’s slender wrist, his grip strong.

“No, wait! Please, just listen to me first,” the senior POW officer begged. He’d need every trick he had up his sleeve to nip this in the bud **now** , unless he wanted to end up dead eventually inside of Gestapo headquarters.

The German colonel blinked in surprise and looked down at his wrist, which the younger officer held in a firm grip. He probably should have been more concerned about that, but it didn’t exactly occur to him in that moment. “Wait for what? You wish for me to delay that phone call?”

Hogan nodded frantically, causing the older man to roll his eyes. “Why? You know as well as I do that sooner or later, that foul-tempered man will barge in here and start making demands anyway. Demands that I either cannot or will not meet. He will want to take you from here as he always does, and I will not stop him this time.”

As the American begged him to hear him out, he sighed heavily and groaned. “I do not even know why I am listening to you, but…alright. I shall give you one more chance. Give me a reason not to call him, Hogan. A **real** reason, and not one of your lies!”

Though he hated to admit it, he was relieved at the temporary reprieve. He didn’t want to see the shorter man even whenever he decided to show up here, so he wasn’t exactly relishing the idea of inviting the irate major to his camp! Klink **really** disliked Hochstetter with all of his constant screaming and threats.

The tall German despised anyone visiting him here, if he was being honest with himself. It seemed like visitors brought nothing but trouble. Klink just wanted to run his camp in peace, which was why he often overlooked his Sergeant of the Guard’s habit of ‘seeing, hearing and knowing nothing’ bit that he did so often. Klink only wished he could do the same…but as the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13, he simply didn’t have that luxury.

Hogan gulped but let go of Klink’s wrist. Here it was, the end game. It was double or nothing and his next play would make or break his operation, so he needed to make this good. He sat back in his chair as he scooted it back to the normal spot. Then he allowed himself to look as helpless as he currently felt, too anxious to try and hide his feelings at the moment. His next words would decide not only his future, but that of his men and their mission. That being the case, he sucked in a deep breath.

“Let’s start with an apology from me,” replied Hogan unexpectedly. Klink looked at him with fire blazing in his blue eyes, which looked surprisingly eerie due to the shade of blue they were. Yet Hogan pressed on, needing to make Klink understand that he actually wanted to be **here** instead of anywhere else if he had to be trapped in Germany.

God help him, but despite his previous jokes about it, Hogan actually considered this a second home of sorts now. It wasn’t the location that made it a home, but the company around him. His men were the most loyal friends he could’ve ever asked for, and even the guards were decent enough people.

In any event, the American officer needed Klink to know that Hogan wasn’t actively trying to make trouble for him. So he needed to make this count. Maybe revealing a little truth and mixing it with a lot of lies would help?

“I’m sorry, Colonel Klink. I’m sorry more than you can ever know. Things weren’t meant to go this far. Everything just sort of spiraled out of control, as it usually does around here.”

The younger officer shrugged, a wary look on his face as he debated what he could safely reveal. “There was never any intention to get **real** members of the Gestapo involved, and I –”

Klink growled before losing his temper again. Why had he bothered giving the younger colonel another chance? Hogan was handing him a load of crap instead of telling him the truth, as he always did.

“Of course they did! They always go too far whenever you are involved, Hogan. But what you fail to realize is this…it is not just **me** you put in danger. You put **yourself** in danger, you foolish troublemaker! Not to mention the French cockroach. I –” The older man cut himself off as Hogan’s words registered. What kind of tall tales was his sneaky brat trying to tell him now?

“I beg your pardon? Members of the ‘real’ Gestapo?” Klink rolled his eyes at the sheer insolence of the American colonel. _What nerve…he asks that I listen to him and then hands me such lies!_ “Hogan, every member of the Gestapo is a ‘real’ member. Next I suppose you will tell me that you know some Gestapo impersonators!” retorted Klink.

His eyes met the other colonel’s, who was quiet for once as he looked away. _Hmmm…interesting. Normally, Hogan will not ever shut up,_ mused the tall German. _He also keeps eye contact with me as a rule._

Sighing wearily, Klink prayed for even a shred of patience as he tried to figure out what game Hogan was playing now. _‘Real’ members of the Gestapo indeed!_ The thought crossed his mind as he frowned.

Something unsettling had just occurred to him, and the _Luftwaffe_ officer didn’t like it at all. _But if Hogan knows people who impersonate Gestapo members, then that means he knew them before he was shot down. That is a highly unlikely occurrence for an American. And who would want to pretend to be in the Gestapo anyway?_

Klink’s brow furrowed at the direction his logic was headed in. _But then…how did he contact them and tell them where to be? He is a prisoner of war, and there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13! The only other explanation is…oh no._ His eyes widened a little bit as the only answer that could be correct occurred to him.

 _No, I refuse to believe it!_ The _Kommandant_ looked at his senior POW officer questioningly, who was squirming slightly in his seat. His body language additionally indicated that he was nervous. Since Hogan was usually calm as a cucumber, the squirming by itself only added to his suspicions.

Klink wasn’t as dumb as everyone seemed to believe. He knew perfectly well there was no way that Sergeant Schultz could ‘see nothing’, ‘hear nothing’ and ‘know nothing’ all of the time, especially given that he was always in Barracks 2. Even though socializing with the prisoners was forbidden, the fat sergeant had a way of just ‘happening to be there’ when it was most convenient on a regular basis. Anyone with that many vision and hearing issues would have never qualified to be in the _Wehrmacht_ at all, never mind become a pilot in the _Luftwaffe_.

And Sergeant Schultz had fought in World War One, just like he had. He also knew that he himself was guilty of turning a blind eye to some of the more ‘unusual’ incidents involving his senior POW officer and/or his men. He disliked playing the fool immensely, but it successfully kept him out of trouble with General Burkhalter. It also kept him out of trouble with Major Hochstetter and his Gestapo goons. Until now, anyway.

The older man glanced at the younger colonel again as something occurred to him. “Hogan, that Gestapo man in Paris…he said you knew _SS-Reichsführer_ Himmler on a first-name basis. I thought he had gone mad, until I saw you interact with the man. You called him ‘Heinrich’. Now tell me the truth! Was that actually Himmler? Or is this yet another trick you were playing?”

Klink shook a slender finger at Hogan. “Himmler is not a nice man by any means, Colonel Hogan. He has no sense of humor, and he does not play games of any kind.” And he wasn’t kidding when he said that! _Well, none of the men in black have a sense of humor anyway,_ he reasoned.

A dark look crossed his features as he considered the possibility that somehow, his troublemaker had gotten the leader of the SS/Gestapo involved in his mischief. Klink himself couldn’t just call Himmler’s office and be put directly through, even if he wanted to. Not that he ever did, mind you. That being the case, how had Hogan managed such a thing? For that matter, what phone had he used? There were no pay phones in the camp, and he knew no such calls had been made in his office!

Scowling, the tall German stated, “God help you and your ability to sit down in the foreseeable future if you have involved him in one of your crazy schemes, because I will –”

Klink paled and cut himself off as what exactly would happen in the end occurred to him. “I will be shot. _Mein Gott_ , they will kill me! And Major Hochstetter will be all too happy to lead the way, as you know he dislikes anyone and everyone. And I know that with me that it goes beyond mere dislike, it is actual hate. He has made no secret of that fact.”

He placed his head in his hands. “Oh no. Oh no, this is terrible.” He sank down in his chair, a terrified look on his face. The older man needed to know if he should be expecting a black staff car with the bold SS runes in white on the side to be rolling through the gates at some point, and if so when he could expect them to be here.

And how would he even go about finding that out anyway? Klink certainly wasn’t going to call the man in question and ask! The mere question might plant a suggestion in Himmler’s head if it hadn’t been there before, since the leader of the SS/Gestapo was notoriously trigger-happy.

Not to mention that it would raise questions that he didn’t want to answer, such as the security of Stalag 13 and the numerous odd things that happened here…which again, would end up with him facing a firing squad. Only in that case, it’d be for incompetence. _Either way, I am a walking dead man,_ he thought gloomily.

The _Luftwaffe_ officer had no desire to end his long career in such a dishonorable way, which was what appeared to be the case now. And Hogan still hadn’t answered him. By now, the German officer was scared of what the answer was. Surely if the answer was a ‘no’, the American colonel would have told him so by now, right? Oh, this wasn’t good.

“Answer me, Hogan! Was that or was that not Himmler? I need to know if I need to get my affairs in order! You owe me that much.” Then Klink’s mind begun to race as he considered what he needed to do next, and which items had priority.

Hogan swallowed hard, since he didn’t particularly want to answer that. Yet he didn’t want to be at the whim of Hochstetter’s tender mercies either. He decided to answer the question anyway. Even if Klink really did decide to spank him within an inch of his life later on for this – and the odds for that were increasing rapidly by the moment – it was still better than the alternative!

“First of all, just relax, Colonel Klink. That wasn’t the real Himmler. I don’t know him, and I don’t **want** to know him. It was just an imposter.” He gave a shadow of his normal grin and continued on.

“That is, unless Himmler’s ditched ol’ scramble-brains, is now supporting the Czar and has developed a Russian accent.” Hogan had noticed how distressed Klink was and was trying to calm him down. After all, it wouldn’t do if the Iron Eagle decided to take flight out of panic. Or even if he decided to off himself before the perceived threat to his life arrived. And his ‘American sense of humor’ – as Klink often put it – seemed like the best way to accomplish his goal.

“Hogan! Do not say such things, someone will hear you!” Klink looked nervously at his required picture of Hitler that hung on the wall. He wished he could take it down, but that would **also** raise questions he didn’t want asked!

“Mind you, I do not know how you did this. I do not wish to know either, not that you will tell me anyhow. But if that was an imposter dressed as Himmler, then does that mean that the Gestapo men were –”

He cut himself off, unable to voice the question. Was it really true? Did he dare to get his hopes up? Klink had always had his hopes and dreams crushed every time he’d dared to think of them before. So it went without saying that he was leery of having it happen yet again.

“Fake? Yeah.” Hogan grinned, glad Klink seemed to be understanding him. As a bonus, the older man didn’t appear to be upset with him anymore. He’d done it! He had successfully avoided another spanking. _Wow, that feels like a really weird thing to be happy about._

“At least those particular ones were, but don’t worry…the real ones were under control. Like I said before, _Kommandant_ , I’d never put you in any danger,” the American colonel stated.

He coughed and added, “Although LeBeau and I **did** requisition your staff car and blamed the Gestapo for it, so –”

“ **YOU DID WHAT?!** ” Klink bellowed as he leaped to his feet. While he was grateful that the real Himmler hadn’t been mixed up in all of this – and that he would live yet another day – this was still unacceptable behavior.

“There you go again, you troublemaker! You and the cockroach stole my staff car, let me call the actual Gestapo instead of making sure I reached the imposters, let make a fool of myself by blaming them for it, and –”

 _What am I even saying? This is utter madness!_ he thought as he cut himself off, sitting back down with a sigh.

“Hogan, you will be the death of me one day.” Klink looked at his senior POW officer, who was the perfect picture of innocence. The American colonel also looked very pleased with himself, presumably about his latest scheme.

 _Well, he will not look so happy in a moment,_ the German officer thought. Even though he wouldn’t be transferring Hogan anywhere, Klink still had to make it clear that he would not get off scot-free. “Once again, we will have a ‘discussion’ about this tonight. You will meet me at 2200 hours in my quarters. You know the routine by now.”

As expected, this announcement wiped the smile off of Hogan’s face. He thought he’d gotten himself out of hot water earlier. _Guess I celebrated too soon,_ he thought sadly. His stomach twisted in anticipation of the long wait until that time, since it was only noon right now.

The younger man also really, **really** didn’t want to know what Klink would use on him tonight! Given the fact that each time his butt hurt worse than the time before, he wasn’t eager to find out just how bad things could get for him. The last time, it’d taken almost a week before he only had faint marks.

Sadly, it seemed as if he would be doing so anyway. _And I told you before, you deserve whatever you get,_ came that snarky voice again. _Just be happy you’re not getting transferred anywhere and shut up!_ But Hogan wasn’t a man who could just let things go, which was the main problem he had during these discussions.

“But sir! I thought I just told you what happened,” he protested feebly.

“You have told me what I am sure is only half the story, Hogan. We have other issues to discuss later on, of that I am sure.” Klink frowned as Hogan mumbled something else.

“Speak up, Hogan, I cannot understand you when you mumble! What did you say?” the tall German asked sharply.

Hogan closed his eyes in shame before repeating his last statement. “I said, I don’t want a spanking, sir.” His stomach was in knots now and he felt sick. Somehow he didn’t think his protest was going to do him any good, but he had to try. And he was proven to be correct rather quickly.

Klink got his ‘nasty-happy’ grin on his face. “Well, as I said before Hogan, you should have thought of that before you got yourself into even more trouble. Rest assured, your spanking tonight will be well-deserved.” _And just **how** well-deserved it will be is something you are unaware of right now, my troublemaker, _thought Klink. He remembered very well the promise he’d made that first night right before his brat had left, even if Hogan didn’t. And after the scare the American had just given him, he was certainly going to keep it.

“It’s **always** well-deserved, according to you,” Hogan shot back as he opened his eyes. He wished as he saw Klink’s wicked grin that he hadn’t said that, but it was too late now. All he could do was avoid further putting his foot in his mouth.

Klink raised an eyebrow. “Are you being a smart-mouth, Colonel Hogan?” He smirked at the American officer, amused by his inability to know when to keep silent.

“I do not think that is wise in your present situation. But if you do, feel free to carry on. I will wait until you are finished.” The older colonel gave Hogan a questioning look, wondering if he was really going to dig the hole any deeper than he already had.

“Well, go ahead.” _You are already in for a world of pain tonight, Hogan…do not make it worse!_ He silently willed the other officer to somehow figure that out for himself, because he sure wasn’t going to say what he was thinking outright!

Hogan shook his head, unwilling to earn himself a single swat more than whatever Klink decided to give him. “Uh…nope. No one’s being a smart-mouth over here, sir. And it’s definitely not me being one in any way. I was just giving you my opinion, and there’s no harm in that, right?” Speaking of swats, he still didn’t know what would be used on him tonight!

The next ten hours were going to be pure torture, seeming to drag on forever. That was what always happened, and he had no reason to expect that it’d be any different this time. Part of him wanted to ask his question outright, but his common sense disagreed. So for a change, he actually listened to it and kept his big mouth shut. The younger colonel was already starting to feel sorry for himself, and he was convinced that it showed on his face.

Klink gave a small smile. “Indeed there is not…and that is what I thought.” He gave Hogan an appraising look, noting that he already looked remorseful about his earlier words. That was encouraging, at any rate. “That is all, and I will see you tonight then.” He gave the senior POW officer a salute. “Dis-missed!”

Hogan returned the salute, but it was half-hearted. “Sure. See you then, sir.” He turned and left Klink’s office, heading back to his barracks. Maybe Carter would be willing to play some checkers and help him kill the time. As he closed the office door, Hilda gave him a hug and he returned it.

“What was wrong with the _Kommandant_? I have never seen him so furious before,” she whispered as she took in his forlorn expression. “Colonel Hogan, what have you done now?” she asked as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Me? Not a thing,” said Hogan with forced cheer and a fake smile. “He’s just mad because our boys keep picking off the Germans like fish in a barrel. Guess he needed someone to yell at and vent to, but he’s fine now.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you later, sweetie. I’ve got business to take care of.” He waved and left the _Kommandtur_ , closing the outer door behind him.

Klink groaned to himself as his office door shut behind Hogan. He wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to give the wily American colonel yet another chance, but that’s what he was apparently doing. So Hogan thought he had him wrapped around his little finger, eh? Well, nobody pushed Wilhelm Klink around!

The tall German would make this lesson so severe that Hogan would have to literally be dead to forget it. Which, at the rate he kept having to up the severity of discipline, was a possibility. _No, I will not kill him,_ he thought.

 _But I will teach him to listen to me, or so help me God he will be my prisoner even **after** the war ends! Who knows, his superiors might even thank me. _The very idea of being thanked by the Allied brass for keeping a behavioral leash – so to speak – on Colonel Hogan brought a smile to Klink’s lips as he returned to his paperwork.

**_ 2200 hours, Klink’s quarters… _ **

Klink was sitting on his sofa, awaiting the arrival of his trouble-making senior POW officer. He hadn’t moved the coffee table away from it this time, as there was no need. This time they would be in his bedroom with rope restraints. As he had told Hogan before, he had no wish to harm or injure him. He just wanted to provide some much needed discipline. He heard a knock at the door as he glanced at his watch. Whatever else you said about Hogan, he was punctual! _Well, when he wanted to be anyway,_ said his inner voice.

“Enter!” he called out. Klink had left the door unlocked tonight, so that the American would be able to enter at will. The door opened, and in trudged a very unhappy-looking Colonel Hogan. “Hi, Colonel Klink,” he said miserably. He could honestly say that he wasn’t looking forward to this at all.

As expected, the last ten hours had been mental anguish. Hogan had finally given up worrying about what was to come, preferring to get a nap in instead. That had worked for exactly forty-five minutes before he woke up. The rest of the time he’d alternated between pacing, losing spectacularly at cards and helping to dig their newest tunnel.

He took off his bomber jacket and crush cap, hanging them both up before shuffling over to the older man. His expression was a mix of gloomy and remorseful. “Let’s just get this over with so I can go figure out a comfortable position to lie down in and cry myself to sleep in my barracks.”

The statement was said with as bland a tone as he could manage. Then he looked down at the table, which unlike the previous two times hadn’t been moved. “Hey, did you change your mind?” Hogan’s voice might have sounded hopeful, but he wasn’t counting on being that lucky.

Klink raised an eyebrow. “You surprise me, Hogan. You claim you hate being spanked, yet you all but demand a quick start to the main event.” He saw Hogan looking at the table and heard the hopeful tone of voice as he asked his question. _Will this brat never learn?_ he wondered.

He let a smirk cross his face as he replied. “You are not that fortunate,” he added. He watched the younger man’s face fall and continued. “I have just have a few questions for you first, and then we will proceed. As I told you before: a German officer does not joke about such things, nor does he break his word. I assure you, I will always keep my word to you on this, Hogan.”

“Gee, thanks. You know, feel free to joke about or break your word to me regarding this at any time, sir,” Hogan quipped. “I would hate for you to go to so much trouble on my account,” he added.

Klink’s smirk only grew. “Ah, but it is no trouble at all Hogan. After all, I would hate for you to feel unwelcome. I wish for you to feel wanted,” he said with a smile.

“That’s what I was afraid of. I don’t mind feeling unwanted…really. Honestly, it’s not a problem at all,” pouted Hogan as he sat down next to Klink. Since it seemed like his rear end was safe for the moment, he thought it was best to keep it protected as long as he could!

“But it is rude to make someone feel unwanted, Hogan. That is just bad manners.” Klink’s smile vanished as he looked at the American, with a glower replacing it.

“Now, since you are so eager to begin your punishment, answer me this: in what strange way did you rationalize not only risking being shot as an escaping prisoner of war, but taking another prisoner with you? Out of Germany, no less!”

Klink’s voice was firm, with no warmth to it at all. “I am not so much concerned for my own welfare, although being a pawn in your scheme does irritate me. But the fact that you put yourself in danger is foolish, Hogan! And not just you, but Corporal LeBeau as well.”

Hogan looked down at his hands. What could he say? He couldn’t give away the real reason why he and LeBeau had hitched a ride on Klink’s staff car. _“Oh yeah, by the way Colonel Klink, we stowed away on the roof of your staff car so we could free an underground agent in Paris. But we always intended on coming back to Stalag 13 after we were done, so no hard feelings, right?”_

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Hogan also couldn’t answer how they’d gotten out, not unless he wanted to condemn every POW here to a firing squad. And he definitely wasn’t going to do that. Either way, he had to come up with an explanation, and quick.

Hogan had just managed to come up with something that sounded somewhat plausible that might satisfy the inquiry made. That is, until he remembered that the older colonel liked to have eye contact when being spoken to. So he looked up and met Klink’s eyes, That was a mistake, because he could see the curiosity in them. And oddly, there appeared to be a feeling of betrayal in them as well.

All at once, the planned lie he had concocted evaporated into the air. Fortunately for Hogan though, he worked well off the cuff, and so he opted to tell the tall German a vague truth mixed with a lie. “I’d love to tell you, sir. Really, I would. But…I can’t.”

Hogan sighed before adding “It’s better if you don’t know anyway, as it’ll be safer for you.” His voice sounded choked up as he added, “Just know that while there was some danger, we always had a backup plan. And LeBeau volunteered to go, so don’t be mad at him sir.”

He finally broke eye contact and looked down, ashamed. “If you’re gonna be mad at someone, I’m the guy you want. I’m their commanding officer, and my men can only follow my orders,” he finished weakly. This wasn’t going to end well for him, he just knew it.

Hogan might have thought Klink was joking after the first punishment. That is, until he’d received the second one. That event alone left him no doubt that Klink meant what he said before, and a chill ran down Hogan’s spine as he recalled an earlier conversation they’d had on the subject. _“I meant what I said. The next time, you **will** feel my riding crop. And my belt if it happens a third time.” _

The senior POW officer quickly did some calculations in his head. If he’d already been here twice, that would mean…oh no. Surely this wasn’t that serious a situation, right? _You know that’s a lie, or he wouldn’t have been so furious earlier,_ said his common sense.

Okay, then wasn’t almost getting Klink killed far worse than this? Maybe the German was just joking with him! Sometimes Klink tried his hand at being intimidating, which usually failed. It was at that time the American officer recalled something else he had been previously told: _“I can assure you Hogan, a German officer never jokes about such things. And we **always** keep our word.” _

Apparently not, then. _Well…shit._ _I’m so screwed,_ the younger colonel thought. It was shaping up to be another restless night as he tried to find a good position to sleep in, plus another few days of not sitting down comfortably.

But somehow, Hogan had a feeling that this spanking would be the worst yet. He felt a tingling sensation in his sit-spots as the blood drained from his face. While he didn’t have firsthand experience with such a thing, Hogan knew people who did. To say being punished with a belt was extremely painful was putting it lightly. German discipline clearly wasn’t the thing he should be testing, and yet he managed to do it anyway.

 _That’s because you’re an idiot who can’t follow instructions, and clearly you’re a glutton for punishment as well,_ Hogan’s common sense snapped at him. _Klink gave you two orders; stay out of trouble and control your men. And you can’t even do that? You deserve every swat and more! You almost gave the Iron Eagle a heart attack earlier, you scared him so badly._

While Hogan knew he tended to ‘run wild’, as the _Kommandant_ so eloquently put it at times, it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t even forty yet and he was already a full colonel, which gave him an inflated ego. In addition to that, he was currently a prisoner of war in ‘the toughest POW camp in all of Germany.’ There was an active war going on, yet Hogan was unable to contribute to the fight as much as he wanted to. He was stuck in the heart of enemy territory, running an espionage ring instead.

Hogan didn’t like being a captive in any shape, form or fashion. He liked to be free to do whatever he wanted to do, whenever he wanted to do it. And that’s why he’d joined the Army Air Force in the first place, because he wanted to fly. He got his greatest adrenaline rushes and his greatest joy when he was piloting an airplane. The man who’d shot him down – General Biedenbender of the _Luftwaffe_ – had once called him ‘an eagle in a cage.’ To be honest, that description was completely accurate.

Klink steepled his fingers as a curious look came over his face. He saw the blood suddenly drain from his senior POW’s face and wondered what he was thinking about. More importantly, had the grave seriousness of everything he’d done sunk into that thick skull of his yet? The German colonel didn’t know…and he hadn’t really expected Hogan to give him a straight answer, if he was being honest with himself.

Klink was still upset about getting tossed in jail at the Paris Gestapo headquarters, although he had to admit that Hogan was a sly one. The fact that Hogan hadn’t ordered LeBeau to go was a point in his favor, and the fact that they had both returned to Stalag 13 in the end was another one. Which reminded him…

“How exactly did you get to Paris, anyway?” he inquired. This would be interesting to hear. “Especially as I called Stalag 13 and spoke to you here.”

The _Kommandant_ gave Hogan a knowing glance. “Even a man of your apparent talents cannot be in two places at the same time, Colonel Hogan.”

Another question came to mind as he spoke. “For that matter, how did you call that impersonator and tell him where to be?”

Hogan winced. Klink was asking questions he couldn’t answer, not if he wanted to keep the ‘traveler’s aid society’ up and running. His mind was racing as he tried to think of an excuse. “Would you believe we flew there?” he offered weakly. “And I called him from the hotel, of course.” That sounded reasonable enough, right? He sure hoped so.

Thankfully, Klink seemed to buy that part of his lie, even as he shook his head. “Not a chance. On what airplane? Or did you suddenly sprout wings like a bird?”

He sighed. Dealing with Hogan was an exercise in pure frustration! “Try again, and tell me the truth this time,” he advised.

Now he was even more curious about what had really happened. Hogan could lie like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, that much Klink knew. Though at this point, he seemed to be all out of excuses. So instead, Klink just sat there and patiently waited.

The American colonel sighed wearily. “Look, I can’t tell you that either, sir.” Seeing the unhappy look on Klink’s face, he added, “I can’t tell you any details about any of it; how we got there, what we were doing, how you talked to me here at the camp when I was in Paris or anything else.”

He looked up at the German colonel, and his eyes were both pleading and sincere. “I don’t wanna lie to you, sir. I’ve got no problem messing with Schultzie on occasion, but I have enough respect for you that it would make me feel worse than I already do. So please, just let it go,” Hogan requested as he hung his head.

To his absolute shock, Hogan found that his words were sincere. He already knew that Klink would still spank him – and the word ‘spank’ still made him squirm uncomfortably, by the way – but he found that his answer to Klink’s question wasn’t an attempt to get out of it. It was an honest answer. For once in his life, he wasn’t trying to fast-talk his way out of a problem.

To be perfectly candid, that scared him. He wasn’t quite sure when he had gained new respect for Klink – who was (or at least appeared to be) a bumbling idiot at times – but he knew that it now existed. _That’s just great. Way to go, Rob. What do you think you’re doing, exactly?_ his inner voice demanded. _Get your act together!_

Klink considered his troublemaker thoughtfully. The American colonel sounded genuine, something that was a rarity. Even so, he appreciated Hogan’s honesty – such as it was – and his unwillingness to lie to him. It just reinforced his opinion of the younger man, and it made him wish that they were on the same side. He could clearly see his senior POW officer sitting there looking ashamed, which was a good thing in this case.

But the fact that Hogan had gone pale as well bothered him. What was he hiding? Klink would make sure he found out when the war finally ended…assuming that he survived that long. He didn’t see why he wouldn’t, since the officers who ran the prisoner of war camps weren’t normally in danger. But he also knew Stalag 13 was anything **but** normal in that regard, which meant there was some cause for concern.

Or was he thinking about his upcoming spanking? Klink had to admit that Hogan had never looked more like a little boy in deep trouble then he did now, and he wondered if Hogan recalled their previous conversations. He knew the younger officer could add, and what did one plus one equal? Two. That was two spankings he’d already gotten. And two plus one was…not a good number for Hogan tonight.

Out of nowhere, Klink just shrugged and said “Alright.” That was all he said, but it was enough to trigger a reaction.

Hogan’s head snapped up, not trusting his ears. “I’m sorry, what? Did you just say ‘Alright’? Like, ‘Alright, you don’t have to tell me’ alright?” He wasn’t sure if he believed it, since Klink was notorious for wanting a straight answer when he asked a question. Yet he couldn’t help but feel a huge weight lift from his shoulders. The lives of his men and their operation were still safe!

Klink’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yes, that is what I said. Some things are secret in this camp, even to me. And like it or not, we are on opposing sides. Even if I wish it were otherwise at times.” Hogan looked astonished at this remark, which caused Klink to chuckle before continuing on.

“However, that does not, in any way, excuse your reckless behavior. You put not only **your** life at risk, you also put Corporal LeBeau in grave danger.” The American colonel started to protest, but the German one held up a slender hand. “I know, I know…you had a backup plan. But no plan is foolproof!”

The tall German’s voice rose as his anger returned. “Had you been caught, you would have been shot as an escaped prisoner! Not only you, but LeBeau too. I may not always get along with the little cockroach, but that is still not right. Upon such a discovery, the SS would have shown up at Stalag 13 even quicker than you can imagine. And I can guarantee they would not have been merciful to anyone.”

Maybe the younger officer didn’t know what would have happened, but the German colonel doubted it. He sure seemed to know everything else most of the time! “Every prisoner here would have been slaughtered, and every guard here branded a traitor before they were killed. And I do not mean officially court-martialed with a firing squad, I mean shot dead where they stood. So tell me, is that what you want? Nothing is that important, Hogan, nothing!” Klink’s voice boomed in the quiet room as Hogan did his best to disappear into the sofa.

The older colonel heard himself yelling and tried to calm down. “For God’s sake, can you not understand? I do not wish to see anyone here hurt. I just want to survive this war in one piece, and I want to keep everyone else that way too. My job as the _Kommandant_ here is to keep everyone here safe, and that means **everyone.** Including my prisoners.”

He closed his eyes briefly, unwilling to show the American officer the pain that his death would cause Klink emotionally. “I do not want to see you hurt, Hogan. I like you a great deal, certainly more than I like any of the other prisoners. And not just because you are my senior prisoner of war officer, so thus we must interact every day. As I said before: *had we met in another time, another place perhaps, we could have been friends.”

He opened his eyes and looked over at Hogan. “Do you understand me?”

Surprisingly, Hogan did. If it hadn’t been clear before, it was now; Klink actually gave a rat’s but about his well-being. _Well, duh! About time you figured it out,_ his inner voice piped up. _He cares enough about you to keep you safe and doesn’t want you hurt. Klink’s not mad you won’t give him details about Paris, he’s mad that you put yourself and your men in danger. He wouldn’t take the time out of his night to correct his ‘troublemaking brat’ – as he puts it – if he didn’t care about you. Get with the program, Rob; how dumb **are** you? Gee whiz. _With a nod of his head and a flick of his fingers, Hogan told his inner voice to shut up. Even though he knew the voice was right, it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it!

Hogan looked at Klink, his stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots again as it had earlier. He didn’t do emotional stuff well, and the anticipation of his spanking that was yet to come was making him antsy. “Yeah, I understand. And I get it, I made you worry about me. About both of us,” he amended. “I…I’m sorry I made you worry, Colonel Klink. That wasn’t okay, and you’re right, it could’ve gone very badly. Obviously for everyone, not just me and LeBeau. So, I…I…I apologize.” he said stiffly.

“Look, with all due respect, sir…I’m not good with emotional stuff. Can we get on with this…spanking…already?” He stumbled over the childish word and knew Klink saw it, so he tried to deflect from it. “Not that I’m in a hurry or anything, mind you,” he said hastily, “but it’s getting late and I’m sure you have important things to do before roll call in the morning. Things like…well, like sleeping, for example.” He finished his sentence weakly and gave Klink a small smile.

**_ Preparing to be worn out… _ **

Klink hadn’t missed Hogan’s slight pause at the word ‘spanking’. But to his credit, he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he stood up and gestured for the bratty POW officer to follow him. He stepped into his bedroom and flipped on the light.

“Alright then, troublemaker, let us get started.” He motioned to the bed, where there was a piece of nylon rope tied to all four corners of the bed. “You should know the drill by now, Hogan. Off with your uniform trousers, and make sure that you fold them. You may place them on the dresser.”

Hogan followed Klink into his bedroom. He looked around and smiled. It was modest to be sure, but it reflected Klink’s personality everywhere. There was a bookcase with three shelves full of books. They held a little of everything, from classic literature like Dracula to what appeared to be more modern stories. He was surprised to see that while some were in German, most of them were in English. There were classical records on the very top shelf and there was a record player on the dresser.

The bed itself looked comfortable as well. It was by far better than what Hogan and his men had to sleep on, but then everything was probably better than what they had in the barracks. Yet the most surprising thing was the lack of Nazi flags or a picture of Hitler on the walls. He gave the tall German a curious look.

“This is a nice place, and it’s very comfortable looking. I like the books,” he said, pointing to the shelf. “But I think you forgot some of the decorations.”

As he spoke, he unbuttoned his uniform pants and removed them. “Not that I’d want it in my bedroom, mind you…but where’s the flags with the swastika on them?

As he picked up his pants up off of the floor and folded them, Hogan inquired, “Where’s the picture of the little messenger courier that everyone on your side seems to have up on their walls?”

Klink gave an exasperated sigh. “Please, give me some credit. I do not keep such things in my bedroom. Why in the world would I ever want a picture of Hitler on my wall? I am not a member of the Nazi Party, nor will I ever be. Thus, the flags are not necessary either. There are laws prohibiting members of the _Wehrmacht_ or any of its branches from joining a political party anyhow, so I am not too concerned about it.”

The American nodded and replied, “Okay, so I have another question. What’s with the rope, _Kommandant_? I appreciate the unusual thought and all, but I like women.”

He gave Klink a glance as he placed the uniform pants on the dresser as previously instructed. After he’d done so, Hogan began slowly shifting toward the wall. It was the farthest he could possibly get both from the bed and his inevitable spanking due to take place there.

The older man looked at Hogan with annoyance. “Insolence! This is not the time for your American sense of humor, Hogan.”

As he did so, he noticed the other officer moving as far away from the bed as he could get. While he was trying to look causal while doing it, Hogan was failing terribly as doing so.

After seeing that, Klink just shook his head and smirked at the younger colonel. “And just where do you think you are going?”

Then he motioned to the bed. “Go and lie down on the bed, _bitte._ Make sure you are lying on your stomach. The rope is here in order to restrain your wrists and legs, as well as keep you from moving. I do not wish to accidentally strike your face or back with the belt, should you move. You may prop your head up on a pillow first, if you wish.”

Having been caught in the act of trying to gradually inch away, Hogan looked absolutely forlorn. But he did as Klink had told him to do anyway. Yet he still had another question. “Okay, I get that. The Allies don’t like him either, but…but you have a picture of him in your office. And you have one of Himmler in there too! By the way, he looks like a weasel. So why do you have those up in there then, if you don’t like them? Seems kind of weird to me.”

As he laid on his stomach on Klink’s bed, it occurred to him that this was perhaps the strangest thing he’d done yet in World War Two. While Hogan wasn’t thrilled about being tied up, he had to agree that the _Kommandant_ was correct. And once again, Klink was concerned for his safety.

 _Well, at least the pillow is soft, and the bedding is comfortable!_ He sighed sadly, resigned to his fate at this point. Clearly, there was no backing out of this. So he made the best of it instead by propping his head up on the pillow.

Klink growled with annoyance with his troublemaker, yet he conceded that Hogan had a fair point. Deciding to humor the American, he explained the reason why. “Because my dear Hogan, as you said before…it is in my office. I have both Burkhalter and Hochstetter in there on a regular basis, as well as others who do not share my point of view.” He paused and looked down at Hogan.

“Do not get me wrong. I am a loyal German officer who has fought, and continues to fight in a way, for his homeland. But I am loyal to Germany, not the madman in Berlin and his select group of favorites. The same men who cannot see that four Allied enemy countries outnumber three countries who are – for the moment – aligned for a common cause. I want my country restored to what it was before World War One, not the war-torn mess it is currently.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “The picture of Hitler is necessary to keep up expected appearances. The one of Himmler is only there since I have Gestapo and SS officers here as well. Himmler is their leader, so it makes them happy when they see it. No one ever comes into my bedroom.” He gave a small smile. “And I concur, Himmler does rather resemble a weasel.”

Briskly changing the subject, Klink said, “Now, I am going to tie these ropes very securely. I want you to make sure that you cannot get loose after I tell you to do so. And be honest, Hogan!” he said sharply. “As I said, if you accidentally get loose and get hurt, I would feel horrible. And so would your behind from the immediate spanking you would get for lying to me…just as soon as you recovered from this one,” he added with a nasty smirk. “So do not test me on this.”

As Klink began to tie the four different ropes, Hogan’s mind raced. This was it. He was really going to be punished by Klink, and with a **belt** of all things! He felt quite secure as the last rope was tied and knew that he wasn’t going anywhere until Klink decided to let him up. This was different than the other two times.

In each instance before, Hogan could have simply gotten up, put his uniform pants back on and left if he’d wanted to. He had only stayed because he was stubborn and wanted to prove he was tough enough to handle whatever Klink dished out. That thought alone was enough to make him wonder how he got himself into these situations.

However, this time was different. This time, he didn’t have the option of just leaving. Like it or not, he had to put his faith in Klink. He had to put his faith in the _Kommandant_ ’s ability to know when enough was enough, and not cause him to be permanently injured. Though as he had proved before, the German colonel appeared to be the accomplished disciplinarian. He was also quite good at what he did.

Admittedly, he didn’t want to think just **how** bratty Klink’s nephews were that they enabled him to get so good at giving spankings. Hogan also didn’t want to think about how much practice the older man was going to get by wearing his tail out as long as he was a prisoner here! His musings were soon interrupted by Klink’s next words.

“Alright Hogan, now I want you to try to escape. I need to make sure the ropes are secure enough.” Klink chuckled at what he had just said. “Imagine that, I have actually told you to try and escape. Strange world, eh?”

“Oh yeah, very strange sir.” Hogan tried to move each leg individually, then each arm individually. Then he tried to move both legs at the same time and then both arms at the same time. Finally, he tried to roll onto his side in both directions. It was no good…he was stuck.

He looked up at Klink, who was causally removing the belt from his uniform. “I’m not going anywhere, because these knots are really tight,” he reported dejectedly.

Actually, they were exceptionally well done knots for a pilot! Maybe the older man had been in whatever the German version of the Boy Scouts was as a kid. “Have you ever considered a career in the Navy – no wait, what’s the German word for it – the _Kriegsmarine_ , sir? Because these knots are really good,” he complimented the German officer.

Klink finished removing his belt and nodded, pleased Hogan knew the correct word in his language. “Yes, that is correct. Very good, my bratty troublemaker.”

He didn’t miss the sour look that appeared on Hogan’s face at the nickname. “But no, I get seasick quite easily. So that would not have been a good career move for me.”

The tall German folded the belt carefully in half and set it by Hogan’s head. Then he walked over so that he was standing by the American’s hips. “You know how we do things by now, and that means that these come down. Lift your hips slightly.”

If he could have, Hogan would have crossed his arms in front of him. As it was, he stuck out his lower lip and began to pout. “Really? C’mon, Colonel Klink…it’s not bad enough that you’re doing this to me, but do you have to do it on…on my…”

No matter what he did, he couldn’t force the embarrassing words out. Still, Hogan thought it was best to comply with the request. Otherwise it would only result in deeper trouble for him later on.

There was a time and a place it was safe to test Klink’s patience. And that was any other time than during these ‘discussions’. Or you know, when he was in public…preferably with a lot of people around! People meant safety, right? Or at least a temporary reprieve? _Best not to find out,_ his common sense said. _Do you **really** want to know what happens if it turns out that you’re wrong?_

Klink gave him a smirk. Oh yes, he knew that these punishments mortified Hogan to no end, which was all a part of the discipline process. If nothing else, he hoped the resulting shame factor would help deter his wayward troublemaker from being so reckless. “Bare bottom? Is that what you were trying to say?” He received no answer except a scowl, the slight trembling of Hogan’s lower lip and his deepened pout. Chuckling wickedly, he answered the question anyway.

Did he have a slightly evil streak in him that gave him pleasure in embarrassing Hogan a bit when he was doling these spankings out? _You bet you do,_ said Klink’s inner voice. _You are only giving him what he richly deserves, and hopefully saving yourself some stress down the road as well._

“Because, young man…all **spankings** to **naughty** children and young brats in Germany are given on the **bare bottom**. And since I am German and you are in Germany, well…you get to experience it all firsthand. Wonderful, _ja_?” Klink said dryly as he emphasized the childish terms.

“By the way, that also means that any and all punishments you receive in the future from me will be doled out in the same manner,” Klink clarified for his unruly troublemaker. He lowered Hogan’s briefs as he had done before, exposing his bare behind but leaving everything else covered. Then the tall German walked over and grabbed the belt near Hogan’s head, securely holding the buckle part in his hand.

“Yeah…simply wonderful. I’m just happy as a clam over here,” Hogan muttered. “But hold on a minute, you said before that you’re Prussian!”

“Technicalities, my dear Hogan,” said Klink as he did a few test swings. The leather belt made a whistling sound as it swung through the air and Hogan winced. That didn’t sound pleasant at all!

“You still have some very faint bruises from the last time, but this issue cannot wait to be resolved. Therefore, I shall address it now. I will make it quite clear, once and for all, that you are **not** to put yourself in danger! Or anyone else! Do you understand me, Hogan?!” Klink’s accent was sharp and thick again, with his tone clearly being a ‘no nonsense’ one as he asked Hogan the question.

Well when Klink used that tone of voice, there was really only one answer Hogan could give. “Yes sir, completely. I read you loud and clear.”

**_ Reaching his breaking point… _ **

“Good, good. Now, I am going to begin your spanking now. I know it will hurt a great deal, but do try and hold still.”

And with that, the punishment began. Faster than he could process what was going on, Klink swung the belt through the air. The thin leather made a sharp whistling sound before cracking down onto the American’s bare bottom. **SMACK!** The smacking sound was deafening, and suddenly the _Kommandant_ went still. He made no further movement, and Hogan wondered what he was waiting for. Perhaps he had missed somehow?

Then everything happened all at once, and Hogan quickly found out why Klink had waited. He was waiting for the first blow to register! He knew this because without any warning at all, he felt as if someone had branded his rear end with a hot poker. This topped anything else he’d experienced so far, no question about it.

The American colonel opened his mouth in a soundless scream, but the pain was so intense no sound came out. At the same time, he heard a harsh, “Bury your face in the pillow, since it will help muffle the sound,” from Klink. And then the punishment began anew.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWW! OWW, OWW, OWW!” Even with the pillow muffling it, the sounds of pain were clear. This was worse than anything Hogan had ever experienced in his life. And it had only just begun! Even the most sadistic ‘interrogation’ technique the Gestapo goons had used on him didn’t hold a candle to this. He didn’t know how he was going to get through this…he really didn’t.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWW, OWWWW, OWWWW! Oh fu –”

He was in such pain, he cut himself off mid-sentence. This was it. He was going to actually die from the agony. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t actually die. But he’d definitely **wish** he were dead! How long had it been so far? Maybe five minutes? And who was keeping track of time anyway?!

In reality, it had only been maybe two minutes, but it felt like five years! It was a good thing he wasn’t being interrogated in the moment, because Klink had found his breaking point regarding how much pain he could handle. Right now, the American would speak fluent Japanese and learn how to fly if Klink had ordered him to. Anything he wanted, anything at all, so long as his spanking stopped.

But the blows just kept on coming, and Hogan screamed into the pillow. Granted, he was tough. But this was an even higher level of pain than anything that he’d experienced so far. He’d thought the riding crop was bad before? Right now, he’d gladly take lying over Klink’s lap and getting spanked with the riding crop all night over this.

There was no question about it. This was unbearable agony, that’s what this was. There was also no comparison between the two, pain-wise. One of them definitely hurt far less, and it wasn’t the one currently being used on him! The German colonel had told him that before too, but the American one hadn’t believed him until now.

Hell, if there was a next time he’d not only willing lie over Klink’s lap without complaining, he’d do it without being told to! Anything was better than this. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWW, OWWWW, OWWWW! OWWWIE!” He was feeling utterly sorry for himself, since he knew he was never going to be to able sit down again. And that was a fact.

“Now, Hogan…” Klink began to lecture as he continued spanking him, “do you understand how serious this is? How serious **I** think it is that you would risk your life needlessly?!” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Or anyone else’s life?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Do you think that was such a great idea now?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Well, do you?!” the _Luftwaffe_ colonel demanded to know. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Was Klink serious right now? He was doing good to take air into his lungs at the moment, and Klink thought that **this** was the best time to ask him questions?! Hogan shook his head frantically, trying to convey his answer.

However, the tall German was having none of it. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Answer me, Hogan. Because I can do this all night, if need be.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** The blows rained down rapidly, and Hogan felt like his rear end was once again covered in lava. The lava was unfortunately becoming a close acquaintance with how much it visited him, and he dearly wished it would go visit somebody else for a change.

“OWWWW, OWWWWW! OWWWWIE, OWWWWIE, OWWWWIE!” Hogan wailed in pain, unable to think. What was it that Klink was asking him again? Oh yeah, if he thought it was a good idea to risk his life or anyone else’s life needlessly. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to focus during all this, but he would try.

He was supposedly trained to handle pain during interrogations. ‘Supposedly’ was the key word there, since no military training had prepared him for this. In any event, the senior POW officer gave it a shot and tried to answer the other colonel. “I…I…”

Unfortunately, he truly couldn’t make his mind work at the moment. It had other pressing concerns, such as conveying his state of agony.

“Stubborn troublemaker! Damnmit Hogan, do not make me come up with something else. I am quickly running out of both ideas and patience regarding you,” Klink said. His German accent was so thick with emotion that he was hardly understandable, but the meaning behind his words was quite clear to Hogan.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWW, OWWWW! OWWWWWWIE!” Hogan was frantic by now, so he let whatever words decided to fall escape his mouth. He could do damage control later, and in his present condition he was one hundred percent certain that he’d be standing for the rest of his days. Holy hell, the monocle-wearing German officer would have made a great Gestapo interrogator. If he did this to any of their prisoners, they’d crack in less than five minutes. But he wasn’t about to suggest that to Klink!

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWIE, OWWWW! Okay, okay! No, I don’t think it’s a great idea!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “** OWWWWIE! I don’t think it’s even a **good** idea!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWW! I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWWWWWW! Please, stop it! Please, **please!** ” he pleaded desperately. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Geez, what other question was he supposed to answer again? Oh yeah, the one about the seriousness of the situation. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWWIE! Fucking hell, I –”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWW! Sir, I’ve learned my lesson! Please!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWW! OWWWWWIE! No…I mean, **yes**! Yes, I understand everything! Please stop! It’s very serious and I get it now and just **please!** ”

Hogan had slurred his last sentence together, but enunciating clearly wasn’t a high priority of his right now. A higher priority was getting this over with as fast as he could.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWIE! Oh God, help me!” he begged, as if hoping for a miracle to fall from the sky.

Regrettably, none was forthcoming to save him. By now the lava had invited a few of its friends to the painful party raging inside the skin of Hogan’s buttcheeks, and it became altogether too much for him to bear.

Hogan was done with it all. There was no other answer he could possibly give to that question, nothing else he could say. As the belt came down a few more times on his thoroughly thrashed behind, he broke under the waves of pain as he begged again for it to end.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWW! Mercy! I’m – OWWWWIE! – sorry, sir! OWWW! I’m – OWWW! – really sorry! Please, stooooop!”

Klink had succeeded admirably in yet again fully lighting his tail on fire. He began to sob, and the sound was a heart-wrenching one to hear. He didn’t care about what was happening anymore. Klink could carry on with this spanking all fucking night if he wanted to. If it made the situation better, and if it made Klink not mad at him anymore, then why not?

He cried openly, the tears running down his cheeks. In his sorrow, he didn’t notice that his spanking was over. He just laid there and sobbed.

Suddenly, he felt the ropes around his ankles and wrist fall away. Barely registering it and not caring at the moment anyway, he continued to sob into the pillow. His voice was muffled as he spoke. “Sorry…sorry…sorry.”

Hogan hiccupped and squeezed the pillow for dear life. And the entire time, he just kept repeating the word ‘sorry’, chanting the word like it was his new mantra.

**_ Becoming thoroughly exhausted… _ **

There was a dip in the mattress as Colonel Klink sat next to him. Hogan was still lying there, spread eagle on his stomach as he’d been tied. He was also seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Klink looked at Hogan’s bottom and grimaced. The skin was a purplish color and was definitely bruised. Indeed, it was a sight to see and he knew it had to be quite painful. But he also knew that comfort was needed first.

That decision made, he gently rubbed soothing circles on his young brat’s back, trying to soothe him. “Shh, shh…it is okay, Robert. You are a good boy. You did so well, you are a such a good boy.”

The older man continued to rub Hogan’s back soothingly until he felt the American’s breathing return to normal. “I am very proud of you. You took your punishment quite well, and now it is over.”

Given what had just taken place, Klink squeezed some skin repair lotion into his hand and gently began to rub it into his chastised brat’s sore bottom. As expected, Hogan jumped from the feel of the cold substance.

Hogan gasped as the cool lotion touched his inflamed butt. It was an entirely new sensation…but while not unwelcome, it still hurt! “What…huh? Ow,” he said rather pitifully.

“Shhh, it is only lotion, Robert. It will help the skin heal faster. Hold still,” said Klink as he rubbed the lotion into the skin.

He did so as gently as he could, but he still winced whenever Hogan did. He had been on the receiving end of this sort of thing before himself, so he knew it hurt terribly.

In an attempt to help ground Hogan into reality again, he told him so. “I told you that I have had this happen to me before when I was a young boy. After a particularly bad spanking from my father, my mother would do this for me. Lotion has always proven to help the skin repair itself, and this is a lotion designed specifically for that purpose.”

Hogan wasn’t quite understanding the German officer. “It’s…to help…after spanking?” he managed to say, still visibly distressed as he wondered where that type of thing was sold.

But Klink only chuckled and shook his head. “No, child, it is designed to repair the skin in general.” After he finished rubbing it in, he carefully pulled up his senior POW officer’s briefs.

“I know, your bottom has to hurt terribly right now. And I am truly sorry that I had to be so hard on you tonight. But I care about you, and when I learned what you had done…I was scared out of my mind when I thought of what might have happened. The night we came back to Stalag 13, I did not sleep a wink. I was so scared, and then I was so angry with you afterward!” the German officer explained.

Klink paused for a moment. “I could not even deal with you then, because I was far too upset and might have caused you permanent damage in my anger. I would rather cause you some pain now and know you are alive, than let you do something foolish and know you are dead. And anyway, the pain will help you to remember this lesson. Or at least, I sincerely hope it does.”

Shaking his head, the tall German added, “I have no wish to ever repeat such a lesson, but I will do if I need to. I know you will not believe me, but it hurt me to do that to you just as much as it hurt you to receive it.”

He tapped his chest, where his heart was. “It hurt me here. I felt as if my heart had been ripped out and stomped on with spiked boots…and then run over with a tank. Several tanks,” he added.

The words were melancholy, but they painted a funny picture of Nazis in skirts doing those things for some reason. Why they were in skirts was unknown to him, but the mental images made Hogan smile.

“Remember it? It’s etched into my mind forever,” said Hogan, who had recovered enough by now to speak. “And that’s terrible.”

“Truly? That is good. Then there will be no need for an encore, correct?” Klink asked wryly.

Hogan groaned. “Please, no jokes about that sir. I can’t handle it right now.”

He sighed. “That was without a doubt the most intense pain I’ve ever felt in my life...and that includes my time in Hammelburg with the goons in black.”

Then he sniffled and added, “Congratulations, sir, you even topped them. What is the war coming to when even the Gestapo and the SS can’t prepare you for the wrath of your _Kommandant_?”

As Hogan went to roll onto his side, he yelped and quickly flipped back onto his stomach as his right buttcheek touched the comforter. “Owww. Okay, that was a bad idea.”

Klink gave Hogan a small smile. “I could have told you not to roll over, my little troublemaker.”

While he didn’t comment on anything else the American had just said, Hogan’s _“prepare you for the wrath of your Kommandant”_ bit eased some of the guilt the older man felt in disciplining his bratty charge so thoroughly. He knew it had to be done, but it still had hurt him emotionally to have to do it! And if Hogan could still make jokes, he was going to be fine. He wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a while, but he’d be fine.

“Well, why didn’t you? A warning would’ve been great,” griped Hogan.

Klink shook his head in amusement. The American colonel had a mulish streak a mile wide and even in severe agony, he still shot off his mouth. “You did not ask me, for one thing…you brat,” he added impishly as he grinned.

Hogan’s eyes narrowed before he gave a small grin. “Okay, fair point. You got me there.”

“I believe, Colonel Hogan, that I got you everywhere. Or did you forget what just happened so quickly?” teased Klink as a twinkle appeared in his eyes. He couldn’t help making the joke, since the younger man had left the door wide open for that one.

Hogan rolled his eyes. “Oh, very funny. Let’s all laugh at the well-spanked American colonel…ha fucking ha.” Hogan found that word ‘spank’ didn’t bother him. Well, for the moment, at least. However, he reserved the right to change his mind about that in the future at any time.

“Why don’t you call my men over to see this too? Or better yet, just invite them to watch it live next time?” he asked sarcastically.

Yet as soon as the snarky sentence left his lips, Klink raised an eyebrow at him “Language, Robert. And I had not planned on doing that. But since you would like an audience, I can go and get your men. I am sure they would be happy to laugh at you.”

He started to stand up, only pretending as if he were going to get Hogan’s friends. In reality, he would never do such a thing to the younger man.

But Hogan didn’t know that, so he freaked out momentarily at those words and grabbed Klink by his uniform jacket. “ **NO!** No, that’s okay, there’s no need for that. An audience of one is fine, just fine,” he said hastily.

That’d been a dumb thing to say, and he was grateful that Klink wasn’t twisted enough to have considered such an idea on his own.

Klink was astounded at how fast his brat could move, even now. He let Hogan yank him back down to a sitting position, but just couldn’t resist teasing him again. “Well, alright then. But only if you are sure about that.”

“Quite sure, thank you. I swear to you, sir, I’m never doing a single thing to earn your belt again. Or any other belt,” he added hastily. “Not one thing. Ever. Nope, I’m going to be a model prisoner of war here, and that’s that.” Hogan stated firmly as he pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“I had the strangest thought when the…um, punishment…was happening. Now mind you, it could have been caused by blinding agony,” he added hastily when Klink looked at him, “but it occurred to me anyway. I just thought it was interesting, that’s all.”

Now Klink was curious. “And what might that be, my brat?” he prompted. Hogan rolled his eyes but continued. He was a little embarrassed to admit it now. Yet he’d come this far, and he wasn’t going to back down now.

“Well, I was thinking near the middle of the spanking...and I was in total agony, mind you,” Hogan said as Klink gestured for him to continue, “that at that point in time, I would gladly take lying over your lap and getting sp…punished with the riding crop all night over getting punished with the belt.”

His cheeks grew hot, even as he forced himself to continue on. “There were no doubts in my mind in that regard. And there was also no comparison between the two, pain-wise. One of them definitely hurts a lot less, and it wasn’t the one you were using. So I told myself that I’d not only willing lie over your lap the next time without complaining, I’d do it without being told to do so. Because honestly, anything would have been more pleasant than what was happening in that moment,” Hogan concluded.

The younger colonel felt his blush intensify and promptly buried his face in the pillow. _Why did I even admit that? Am I indirectly asking for more trouble in sitting down?_ _For that matter, am I nuts?_ Those were good questions right now, honestly!

Thankfully, Klink didn’t burst into laughter, although he did grin. Hogan was obviously mortified about the thoughts he’d had, but it took a lot of nerve to admit them out loud. He had to give credit where credit was due, if nothing else. “Robert. Robert, look at me.”

Hogan shook his head, embarrassed beyond all reason as he kept his face buried in the pillow. Klink rolled his eyes at how dramatic his senior POW officer was being, but he didn’t force the American colonel to look at him. “Robert, listen to me. It is natural to make such a comparison when one is in pain. It is like…well, have you ever had a broken bone?”

When his troublemaker nodded, Klink continued. “And have you ever been shot?” Again, Hogan nodded.

“Well, it is like that. A broken bone is utter agony…but after you are shot, the broken bone seems more pleasant in comparison. Punishment follows the same rules. One always seems like the worst thing in the world until something more agonizing comes along, then the first one does not seem so bad by comparison. Am I making sense to you?”

“Surprisingly, yeah.” Hogan lifted his head and looked at his _Kommandant._ “That was actually a good analogy. Thanks.”

Klink shrugged. “It was not a problem. But I have a question for you: did I hear you say ‘next time’? _Mein Gott_ , are you already planning more trouble, little brat?” _If he is truly already up to something, then Hogan really is a glutton for punishment,_ thought Klink.

Hogan sucked in a sharp breath. “Me? Planning trouble? I don’t have to plan to find trouble, it finds me well enough!” Clearing his throat, he added hastily, “Present company excluded, of course.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Nope. I’m not planning any kind of trouble over here. I’ll leave that to my men.”

Then the American’s hands flew over his mouth as he remembered what Klink had said the first time about him and his men, along with the consequences. “Wait, that’s not what I meant! I –”

“You meant exactly what you just said, my brat,” replied Klink drolly. “Never apologize for being honest with someone…or try to deny doing so.”

His eyes danced with mischief as he added, “However, I will remember your feelings in this regard and your cooperative spirit for the next time. And knowing you, Robert, there **will** be a next time. Of that, I am very certain.”

Then Klink rose and said, “You will sleep here in tonight. I shall take the guest room.”

Hogan’s face flushed, but he thought it was wiser to say nothing more on that subject. “Huh? What will I tell my men? They’re gonna wanna know where I am.”

Klink glanced at him and said smoothly, “There will not be an issue. I shall send one of the guards over to inform them you are sleeping. Your excuse is that we were playing chess and you fell asleep, so I let you stay the night here. After I send the guard with the message, I will lock the door.”

His blue eyes met the other colonel’s brown ones. “Do you wish some assistance to crawl under the blankets? Or can you manage on your own?”

“I’ve got it. Thank you though, sir, for letting me stay. It’s very nice of you,” mumbled Hogan as he slowly got up to pull back the covers. He was emotionally and physically exhausted, and now that the adrenaline had faded he found he was rather tired.

Klink nodded and turned off the lamp before heading to the door. “Your uniform trousers are on the dresser. I will wake you an hour before roll call so that you may go back to your barracks and eat breakfast.” He had reached the doorway and just before he closed it, he said softly “Good night, young troublemaker. Sleep well…and I suggest that you lay on your stomach to sleep!”

“You’re making this an interesting war,” was the faint reply Klink got from Hogan in response as he did just that and pulled the blankets over himself. Klink smiled to himself as he shut the bedroom door and made his way to the guest bedroom. He only hoped his message had gotten through his senior prisoner of war’s thick skull, but he wasn’t counting on it. With Robert Hogan around, life was never boring!


	4. Oh, For The Love Of…REALLY?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corporal Newkirk steals a very important codebook from Colonel Klink’s safe. As a result, Klink gets royally chewed out by Major Hochstetter.
> 
> It doesn’t help that said codebook was top-secret Gestapo property that he was supposed to keep safe while Hochstetter was away on furlough. Since when does Hochstetter trust Klink that much, you ask? *shrug* I have no idea; it’s news to me too! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**_  
>   
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for _‘Stammlager’_ , which is short for _‘Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager’_. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _Kraut/krauts_ = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Schnell_ = Quickly/hurry up  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Guten tag_ = Good day  
>  _Reichsmarschall_ = Marshall of the Reich (Hermann Göring’s title)  
>  _Guten abend_ = Good evening  
>  _Oberst_ = German rank, which is equivalent to a colonel in the United States Air Force  
>  _Was tust du_ _?_ = What are you doing?  
>  _Führer_ = Leader (Adolf Hitler's title)  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Ciao_ = Italian for goodbye  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night

**_ Inside Stalag 13, somewhere in the camp… _ **

Colonel Hogan, of the Army Air Force and the reigning senior prisoner of war officer of Stalag 13, was currently engaged in a game of keep-away from one _Kommandant_ Wilhelm Klink. Okay, granted…the exercise was fun, and yeah it had been ages since he’d gotten to play a kid’s game like that. Being a full colonel in the military and leader of the local espionage ring didn’t leave much time for relaxation. Especially when said espionage ring was located in the heart of Germany, which was enemy territory for the Allies. Not to mention he was an active member of the Underground and ‘the most dangerous man in Germany’, according to the local head of the Hammelburg Gestapo. And he had to admit the thrill of being caught made his heart race excitedly. Okay, so he was an adrenaline junkie. Was that a crime? _In Nazi Germany? Probably! Everything that nut in Berlin doesn’t like seems to be a crime here,_ he thought.

What **didn’t** make his heart race excitedly was the thought of the dressing down (and the after-effects that would follow) he’d get when Colonel Klink eventually caught him. No, that thought made his chest tighten instead, and the contrasting feelings were strange to contemplate. A point in his favor was that Newkirk had successful ‘borrowed’ the important new codebook Major Hochstetter had entrusted to Klink. Apparently, it was so secret that Hochstetter didn’t want it anywhere near him when he went on furlough. _Like that madman has anyone who’d actually visit with him of their own free will!_ The very idea of the short, ill-tempered man having a girlfriend or whatever else somewhere was laughable indeed.

Hogan didn’t know when exactly the two Germans had become so chummy, since the volatile Gestapo major seemed to trust no one. _Something to keep an eye on, by the way,_ he reminded himself. Every prisoner of war in Stalag 13 knew Klink was no Nazi; that was made obvious by his humane treatment of them in comparison to the other _stalags._ But the _Kommandant_ had a way of blowing with whichever way the wind went, and Hogan had to make sure that wind stayed favorable to him and his team. And the very secrecy of said codebook meant they had to get that information to London…preferably yesterday!

Which brought Hogan to the other thing; the point against the ‘borrowing’ of Hochstetter’s code book. Usually, “sticky fingers” Newkirk would have gotten into Klink’s office, opened the safe, stolen the codebook for Carter to take pictures of, replaced the damn thing in the safe (on a different shelf of course, just mess with Klink), re-locked said safe and waltzed out. They’d done it so many times before, it was fast becoming a routine. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case this time.

For one thing, the lock had been tougher than usual for Newkirk to open. Mostly likely it had been changed for some odd reason; who knew with the Germans? They tended to be very methodical and keep strict schedules that made little sense to anyone else. And for another thing, Newkirk had needed to stop trying to crack the safe’s lock twice and answer the phone, so it would shut up! It was hard to hear tumblers with background noise going on, after all. That delayed his time in getting the codebook out and getting it to Barracks 2 for Carter to take pictures of, which meant it took longer for Newkirk to get back to the _Kommandtur_ and put it back where it belonged.

These factors combined had resulted in Colonel Klink returning with Major Hochstetter in tow to retrieve said codebook. That definitely hadn’t been a planned on event, and everyone could hear the Gestapo major venting his rage all across the camp. Hogan had hurriedly rushed over to bail his friend and team member out of trouble, for once not needing the coffeepot to know what was going on. It had taken some work, since Hochstetter wasn’t as easily fooled as Klink, but it had succeeded. The _Kommandant_ had gotten royally chewed out though, which was bound to make him unhappy. Hogan winced as he remembered the major’s shrill voice ringing in his ears when he had hurriedly left the office with Newkirk. _If I never saw or heard from that Kraut again, it’d be too soon,_ he thought.

Knowing full well that Klink would be extremely pissed off and looking for **him **after his current annoyance dressed in black had left, Hogan had rushed back to his barracks and given his sarcastic corporal an earful. After asking him what in heaven’s name had possessed him to sit at the desk and still be openly **reading** the stupid thing when the terrible twosome entered the room, the response he’d gotten had just made him roll his eyes. _“Well, you know Guv’nor, they was about to enter an’ see me there anyway. I didn’t have time to get the bloody safe open again, on account of the ruddy tumblers not being sweet on me hands. And I didn’t wan’ them to see me crackin’ the safe. I thought abou’ just sayin’ I was doing some spring cleaning, but I didn’t figure that’d work an’ all, seein’ as it ain’t spring yet. So I sat meself down at ol’ Klink’s desk and when the two Krauts came in, I jus’ said I was brushin’ up on me reading skills. It’s been a long time since I saw a book, see, and I don’t want to forget how to read.”_

Hogan figured he had more pressing issues at the moment then yelling at Newkirk. The main one was going to be finding a comfortable sleeping position on his bunk after the unavoidable ‘discussion’ Klink would no doubt have with him tonight. In the interest of making himself scarce quickly, he’d had just told Newkirk to be more careful next time and to abandon the mission if it got that risky again. Inwardly, he had to applaud the RAF corporal’s snarky yet humorous comeback, but he couldn’t show it. Then he had told his men that he’d challenged Klink to a game of keep-away for a certain amount of time, starting when Hochstetter left, and that if he won he’d try to get more white bread for them as a reward for his victory. But under no circumstances were they to help him cheat in any way.

He wanted this to be a fair game, and Hogan liked a challenge. They seemed to buy it, thankfully, and just in time too; he’d heard Schultz yelling his name across the camp as he undoubtedly neared their barracks. “Well, there’s the referee coming now. It’s game time, so I gotta go! Remember, no helping me out, you guys!” And with that, he went into his office and hopped out the window. Then he’d carefully closed it with a grin and run off. The game was on!

**_ Inside Klink’s office… _ **

Meanwhile, Colonel Klink didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or spank the living daylights out of Colonel Hogan later on. He contemplated doing all of the above as he sat at his office desk. He’d already called for Sergeant Schultz and sent him to find Hogan, with strict instructions to escort the American colonel to his office. Yet he had to admit, Hogan seemed to have a way with words and smoothing over any situation, no matter how hairy it was. The very last thing in the world he’d expected to see as he and Major Hochstetter had entered his office was Corporal Newkirk sitting there, calmly flipping through the new Gestapo codebook – the one **supposedly** locked in his safe – like it was the latest issue of _Stars And Stripes. _The sight had even struck the personal thorn in his side speechless! For about thirty seconds, that is; until the annoying man had let loose with an earsplitting _“Who is zis man and what is he doing here?!”_ If every guard in the camp had suddenly put in earplugs, Klink wouldn’t even have been upset with them. It’s not like he could deny the reason for the loud noise anyway, considering it was standing right next to him!

That being said, the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13 had winced and put a hand over the ear closest to the major. Then Klink used his free one to motion for him to shut up, which had been a big mistake. Hochstetter had whirled around to face him, growling threats about shooting him, sending him to the Russian Front, or both. Of course, Klink had immediately backed away from the loud yelling, ending up in his desk chair with the major looming over him. While he wasn’t sure how a man could be shot **and** be sent to the Russian Front at the same time, he harbored no doubts Hochstetter was incensed enough at the moment to do it.

And the reason the Englander had given the two Germans for why he was there was simply absurd! _“’Ello there, Kommandant Klink, Major Hochstetter. ‘Ope you don’ mind an’ all if I borrow this ‘ere little book of yours; I’m jus’ brushin’ up on me reading skills. Can’t let a bright bloke like meself forget how to read, now can we?”_

The explanation had, again, rendered the shorter man speechless. For that to happen once in a lifetime was a miracle; surely if it happened twice in one day it was a sign of the dawning apocalypse.

Of course, that’s when Hogan had showed up to rescue his mouthy friend. _He claims I have it, but maybe **Hogan** is the one with ESP instead! He always seems to know exactly when and where he is needed, and who is the one in need of help. Of course, I am sure anyone and everyone could hear Hochstetter screaming clear across the camp, so that might not mean anything. _

At any rate, the American had managed to get the Gestapo major out of Stalag 13 (for now) and out of his hair (or what was left of it.) Thankful for the assistance – not that Klink needed it, as this was still **his **camp under **his** command – he had assigned Newkirk the job of cleaning out the latrines by himself for the next two weeks. A chore that was sure to be unpleasant, of that Klink was sure.

He did have to admit that the Englander had a wicked sense of humor and was quick on his feet, though. If only he was a member of the _Luftwaffe_ instead and not part of the Allies like Hogan was –

Blast it all, **Hogan!** Klink leaped to his feet as the name drifted through his mind. Now he remembered what he had been meaning to do. Somehow, in the midst of all the chaos the wily colonel had slipped out. _Well, it is high time I find Hogan and give him a piece of my mind! I shall also inform him exactly what I think of today’s events!_

With that thought in mind, he grabbed his uniform cap and riding crop before heading out of the _Kommandtur._ Schultz hadn’t returned yet, and he sighed. His Sergeant of the Guard was a likeable fellow, but he wasn’t exactly the best at his job.

 _Oh well, what is it the Americans say? Oh yes; if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself,_ he thought. Fortunately, it was a nice winter day outside, so Klink didn’t need his coat for once.

**_ Back outside, near Barracks 2… _ **

It had been about forty-five minutes since he’d ditched Schultz, and Hogan was out of places to hide. Short of climbing up onto the roof, which wasn’t an option since he liked being in one piece, he was out of luck. While having led Klink on a merry chase had been great fun, it was also about to end. Stalag 13 was only so big, and the only place he hadn’t hid yet was in Barracks 2. Which might be a good –

“Ooof! Hey Schultz, watch where you’re going, will you? You almost fell on top of me!” His train of thought was cut off as the large sergeant slammed him into the wall, causing both of them to gasp for breath.

In Schultz’s case, it was from almost an hour of continuous exercise, and in Hogan’s case, it was from being hit by what felt like a truck. Unfortunately, Schultz wasn’t the man he was trying to avoid, but he’d do for now.

“I am sorry for that, as I tripped over my feet. Big feet are hard to avoid, even when they are your own. But Colonel Hogan, I must insist you go to the big shot’s office, _schnell._ He is wanting to see you for a verrry long time now, and I do not want to get into trouble!” Schultz’s voice was pleading, and it made Hogan’s irritation with him disappear.

Yeah, the man had run into him, but it had been an accident. _If my feet were a size twelve, I’d trip over them too!_ “Look, Schultz, I can’t right now. Tell Klink I’ll see him later, yeah? Doesn’t he have any paperwork to do or something? He’s always complaining about that whenever I see him.”

Schultz shook his head. “ _Nein,_ Colonel Hogan!”

He paused. “Well, maybe. I do not know. In that, I know nuuuu-thing! All I know is that I was given orders to escort you there. And orders are orders! Please, Colonel Hogan, do not make this hard on me,” he begged.

Hogan sighed. He was in the middle of a game of keep-away; couldn’t Schultz see that? He glanced around and didn’t see Klink anywhere in the vicinity, so he tried to get Schultz to leave him alone. “Look, Schultz, I promise I’ll go see ol’ Blood and Guts later. I’m –"

Which was as far as he got with his excuse before he felt a hand on his shoulder. And it wasn’t the sergeant’s, because it was slender with long fingers. Not to mention the fact that Schultz was backing up and holding up both hands, stammering as he tried to get his words out. “ _Herr Kommandant_! I told him to go see you, but he –"

Ignoring the sergeant’s ‘big shot’ comment, Klink addressed the other man sharply. “Schultz! That is enough. Return to your post. You are dismissed!”

With the hand that wasn’t on Hogan’s shoulder, the _Kommandant_ gave his Sergeant of the Guard a quick salute.

 _“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!”_ said Schultz as he returned it and left as quickly as he could waddle away, just happy to be out of the verbal line of fire.

Then he turned on his heel to face Hogan and smirked. It wasn’t a happy smirk either, but rather one that clearly said, ‘I’ve got you right where I want you now.’

“ _Guten tag_ , Colonel Hogan. Looking for a good place to hide, perhaps? Or are you simply scouting out a new spot to dig a tunnel?” Klink’s voice was somewhat amused, yet it held a firm warning tone in it.

Well, crap. Hogan had been so busy trying to get rid of Schultz, he hadn’t heard Klink come around the corner. Although to be fair, the area in question was in his blind spot. Nobody was perfect, right?

“Um, hi. Good day to you too, Colonel Klink,” he said as he shook his head. “Of course I’m not looking for a new spot to dig a tunnel…it’s broad daylight! We do that at precisely 3am. The moon is at its brightest then.”

Then he made a show of looking puzzled. “Hide? Why would I do that? I was just playing keep-away with you. You were ‘it’. When someone is ‘it’, everyone else is supposed to run away and you have to catch them. That’s how the game works. Don’t tell me you’ve never played keep-away before, sir!”

“I am not amused by your insolence, Hogan! Though I do rather like the nickname you have given me. ‘Ol’ Blood and Guts’ eh? And pray tell, where did you and your men come up with that one? Or is it just your personal nickname you use when referring to me?” Klink looked over at the American and waited for an answer.

Hogan just grinned sheepishly. He could tell Klink the truth, he supposed; what harm would it really do? However, he wasn’t about to throw his men under the bus, not about this. “Nope, just my personal nickname for you, _Kommandant_. I figured since you’re a decorated pilot from World War One and all, you had to have seen both blood and guts at some point, right?”

Klink just looked at him. Now it was his turn to look puzzled. “What on Earth are you going on about, Hogan? Where did you get such an idea?”

He coughed and added, “Not that it is not true, mind you; all _Luftwaffe_ pilots are fearless by nature. Certainly, we all saw more ‘blood and guts’, as you so eloquently put it, during the first World War. Yet, I am curious as to how you came to such a conclusion.” This ought to be an interesting reply; Hogan was nothing if full of those.

Hogan appearing to be thinking while he tried to come up with something that wouldn’t sound completely hokey. His eyes quickly roamed over Klink’s medals before he saw one that caught his eye. Hopefully he was remembering his knowledge of German military history that he’d been taught in officer’s school correctly, or he was about to look like an idiot. “That badge you wear, Colonel Klink; the one that looks like a circle with a bird inside of it. That’s a _Luftwaffe_ observer badge, right?”

The German officer nodded, surprised that the American one knew that. In World War One, the Americans hadn’t exactly bothered to inquire what medals and awards were for; they simply showed up and started killing the enemy pilots. “Yes, so? Your point is?” The aforementioned badge was his favorite award by far, but where exactly was Hogan going with this line of thinking?

The other colonel rolled his eyes. Surely nobody was this dumb. Who wore an award and didn’t know what it was for? The answer was standing in front of him, apparently.

“So, to the best of my knowledge, that badge means that while you were taking one of your qualifying tests, the pilot clearly wasn’t watching the skies well enough. If he had been, you wouldn’t have gotten wounded ‘in action’, so to say. I just hope he wasn’t injured too badly.” He crossed his arms. “Man, don’t you even know why they gave it to you, Colonel Klink?”

Then Hogan perked up as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, is that why you wear that monocle…because you injured your eye during that flight? But why not just wear glasses instead?”

Klink looked highly offended at the question. “ **HOGAN!** Of course I know why I am wearing this badge; after all, it is the one I am most proud of.”

He touched it lovingly. “They do tell us why we get awards, you know; _Reichsmarschall_ Göring and his award department do not just hand them out willy-nilly. Maybe in **your** military they do, but not in Germany.”

Hogan internally congratulated himself on his flattering skills, even as he frowned. “That was a low blow, sir. The United States Army Air Force doesn’t just hand them out willy-nilly either.”

He waited for Klink to answer his other question. He, and every other POW who had come through Stalag 13, had all wondered about Klink’s monocle. Most people wore glasses, or if they only had one bad eye, they either did without any visual aids or wore glasses anyway. Then they just put plain glass in the other lens. Monocles were just so…19th century. Nobody wore them anymore. Well, nobody except Wilhelm Klink, that is.

“But to answer your question, yes it is actually. I got it when the plane I was training on came down and crashed.” Klink sighed before continuing.

“And no, the other pilot was not killed. However, he will forever walk with a limp. I am afraid he will never willingly talk to me again. When you have earned yourself the nickname ‘the Blue Baron’ from your excellent dogfighting skills, one gets rather testy when you can no longer do what you love. My former friend retired shortly after this war began,” he finished with a shrug.

Hogan just stared at Klink for a minute, actually stunned. While he was glad to have heard the story behind the monocle and couldn’t wait to tell his men about it, just **whose **career the tall German had managed to ruin was a shocker. Even for Klink, that was bad. Out of all the people to –

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You ruined the **Blue Baron’s** dogfighting career?” He laughed heartily. “Oh, that’s rich! General von Richter, right? I met that guy when he came to your party. He did have a bad limp; I’ll give you that. No wonder he was steamed at you! I would be too. Wow, I can’t believe it.” He laughed again. “Well, at least you’re not wearing an eyepatch instead. That’s a good thing, right?”

At first Klink looked like he was going to yell at Hogan again. That is, until he changed his mind and a ‘nasty-happy’ smirk crossed his face. “Indeed. Fortunately for you, Hogan, I can still see perfectly out of this eye with my monocle in. Certainly, I can still see well enough to deal with you tonight at our usual time in our usual place. Which, by the by, is 2200 hours in my quarters. Just in case all that laughing at my expense made it conveniently slip your mind.”

That succeeded in wiping the smile off Hogan’s face. “Oh, hell. What did I do **now**?”

“Language, Hogan,” admonished Klink. “And you personally? Nothing. At least, not today. But do not go getting any bright ideas!” he warned. “Now, Corporal Newkirk? **He** did something big, something the likes of which caused Major Hochstetter yell every threat under the sun at me for a half hour…in my own office! But we will discuss all of it later on.”

Klink smirked at him. “You did not think I forgot what I told you the first time, did you? Do I need to write it down for you, perhaps?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I hope you enjoyed our game of keep-away. It was fun while it lasted.” Then Hogan mumbled under his breath, “The key word there being ‘was’.”

Klink continued to smirk as he addressed Hogan again. “Oh, of course.”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “Because I have nothing better to do than send my Sergeant of the Guard to chase my senior prisoner of war officer around my camp for almost an hour. And because he could not do the job, **I** had to come and chase you too instead of doing the never-ending pile of paperwork sent to me from Berlin!”

“Look at it this way, _Kommandant._ You got outside, got some fresh air, and hopefully worked off some stress with exercising.” Hogan gave him a meaningful look. “That’s not a bad thing, right?”

Klink nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose you are right, Hogan. I am grateful to you for that idea. Indeed, I am so grateful that I will make sure I repay your thoughtfulness later on. I can promise you some ‘stress relief’ of your very own.”

The older man gave him a salute. “Dis-missed!” Then he spun around and walked away.

Hogan returned the salute. “Really, you don’t need to –" But Klink was already out of earshot. “Oh, never mind.”

 _Great, Good going there, Rob. You had Klink eating out of the palm of your hand until you shot off at the mouth again._ Sighing, Hogan made his way back to Barracks 2. He needed to let his men know that he’d managed to lose the game of keep-away. Maybe he could say one of the guards spotted him and gave his location away. He’d figure out something; he always did!

**_ 2200 hours, Klink's quarters… _ **

Klink sat in his quarters and looked at his watch. It was 2150 hours (9:50pm) and he had moved the coffee table out of the way in preparation for the American’s arrival…yet again. _At this rate, you should really just leave it where it is. It would save time and effort,_ his inner voice said.

He had already retrieved the green plastic spoon with holes from his kitchen earlier, so he had it nearby him within easy reach. It wouldn’t permanently injure Hogan in any way; that was the basic standard for anything he used as an implement. Yet it would still sting quite a bit! The holes reduced wind resistance and thus increased the force of the smack.

He was just debating if he should pray for patience when there was a knock at the door. Was Hogan early? No, there was no way. Had he, Wilhelm, ever been so much as a second early for anything like this from his father? _Not a chance in hell!_

“Enter!” he called out.

To his shock, it **was **Hogan! Well, this was a new occurrence. “ _Guten abend,_ Colonel Hogan. You have surprised me tonight. Is your watch early, perhaps?” Klink asked him, his question a serious one.

He knew the American officer didn’t enjoy his punishments, and who in their right mind would? _Though I must admit, he is getting better about putting up a fuss,_ his inner voice said. _Maybe I am **finally** starting to get the idea of discipline through that thick skull of his! _

“ _Guten abend, Herr Oberst_ ,” said Hogan in German. Both the form of address and the choosing of words were quite formal on Hogan’s part. He had done so deliberately, remembering the last time he was here and the words he’d spoken. After all, he was a man of his word and was quite resigned to this unusual method of Klink’s by now. Anything to keep the operation going, his men safe, everyone alive and (reasonably) well.

Besides, he’d heard Schultz (and other Germans as well) always put the word ‘ _Herr_ ’ in front of any title, so he had confirmation that it was a way of showing respect over here. Granted, it wasn’t done that way in the United States. But different cultures and countries were entitled to have other ways of doing things, right?

However, it resulted in Klink raising his eyebrows. “Rather formal tonight, are we not, Colonel Hogan? Not that I do not appreciate it, mind you,” he added. “But normally, you address me as ‘Colonel’, not with my German title. I was not aware you even knew it. And I have never, **ever** heard you address me in the customary way of my country without it being in a mocking way.”

He paused for a moment. “How is it you Americans say? ‘What is your slant?’ Is that the right phrase?”

Hogan attempted to be nonchalant, even though he definitely wasn’t feeling that way! “It’s actually ‘What’s your angle?’ And there’s no angle involved tonight, sir…for once. Shocking, I know.”

He sighed and walked over to the other officer before beginning to unbuckle his belt buckle. “I know a lot of things about Germany, its culture and the language. It’s kind of required in my military to know those things as basic survival skills. And how rude would I be if I’d been shot down here and just expected everyone here to speak English? Most people I’ve met here in the last three years either don’t speak it at all or only know a few words of it. Which makes communication an issue, to say the least.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s not very good manners.”

Hogan added, “I gave you my word last time that if this…situation…happened again, I’d cooperate with you on this without a fuss.” Then he began to remove his uniform pants. “Remember, _Kommandant_? I believe my exact words were _“I’d not only willing lie over your knee the next time without complaining, I’d do it without being told to do so.”_ Well, this is me holding true to my word.”

Wait, did what he said before to Klink count as giving his word? He wasn’t quite sure; he **had** just been under duress minutes before at that time, after all. Screw it; it did to him, and that was what counted.

The tall German nodded. “Yes, of course I remember what you said. Though I confess, I neither expected you to remember what you said, nor to hold to it.”

He watched as Hogan initiated the beginning of the now-familiar routine they’d established. “Hogan, _was tust du_ , might I ask? I mean, what are you doing?”

Okay, so it was obvious **what** he was doing. Despite Hogan’s earlier wisecracks, Klink still had decent vision in both eyes even without his monocle. But without it, it was hard to read anything, and he got headaches if he went without it for too long. Yet this night just kept getting stranger and stranger.

Hogan finished removing the pants and folded them before placing them on the table. “Man, you really do need that monocle if you can’t figure that out, _Herr Oberst_.” He kept the formal term of address, but it took everything he had in him to keep from making any further smart aleck remarks.

“Like I said, this is me willingly cooperating with you. And attempting to be very respectful, which is extremely difficult and taxing to my nerves. So please, don’t make it awkward. This is quite possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life…and yes, that includes enduring Gestapo ‘interrogation’, if you can even call it that. Personally, I’m more inclined to call it ‘the warm-up before the official torture’.” He shrugged before frowning. “And by the way, I’m offended. I’m an officer and a gentleman, and I always keep my word.”

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the other man. He didn’t think his nerves could handle eye contact with Klink right now; it was taking everything he had to keep a handle on his composure. Hands shaking, Hogan reached back to lower just the back of his briefs, baring his bottom. Everything else was covered, as usual, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. In fact, if anything it was more so since he was doing it himself. Yet he knew the routine by now, and it helped him feel like he had some control over this punishment.

That done, he opened his eyes to see what he was doing before carefully and quickly draping himself over Klink’s lap. Hogan was just hoping this is where the other colonel wanted him tonight. Otherwise it was going to get really weird, really fast.

Klink’s eyes widened and the monocle fell out of his left eye. Out of reflex, he caught it and put it back in without looking. Was he hallucinating? Or a better question…was Hogan sick? The American had never been this cooperative in the entire time the German officer had known him! Something was definitely off tonight.

“Hogan, are you well? This is very unlike you. I am not trying to make this difficult, as I can see you are making a great deal of effort to behave, but…” Now it was Klink’s turn to shrug. “This is very odd behavior from you, nonetheless. Surely you can agree with that.”

“Col – _Herr Oberst_ ,” Hogan began. He was fighting to keep the mood he was trying to set tonight, but it was almost impossible by now. _Lord, the one time I actually **try** to work with Klink, and he’s got to play twenty questions!_

“I’m fine. Embarrassed as all fuck, but otherwise I’m just fine. However, with all due respect, sir...I can’t sustain this level of cooperation much longer. And I’m trying here, I really am. But you will you just get on with it, please? Ask me your questions afterward, and I’ll answer them the best I can. Whatever you want. But just…please!” He was disgusted at the sound of his own voice, which was a combination of pleading and annoyance. _What is this world coming to?_ he wondered.

**_ Literally asking for it… _ **

Klink rolled his eyes at the request but had to concede Hogan’s point. In acknowledgement of his efforts, and as a sort of reward, he didn’t admonish Hogan for his language. Instead he picked up the plastic spoon and replied, “As you wish, then. I shall ask my questions later.” And with that, the spanking began.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He struck the bare target in front of him three times in rapid succession before inquiring, “Are you happy now, Hogan?”

“Actually, yes. _Danke_ ,” Hogan replied. Was that a slightly grateful tone he heard now as he spoke? Yeah, it was, and it caused his face to flush crimson in shame.

 _Sure, why not?_ his inner voice asked. _You’re the same weirdo who not only shows up ten minutes early and willingly cooperates with your spanking tonight; you do everything Klink normally has to order you to do during these ‘discussions’ of your own accord! You’re cracking up, Rob!_

Well, he was grateful, in a way. The lead-up to everything so far had been tense, but now that it had started it was all up to Klink. In return, he just had to endure it until it was over. In a way, it was a relief. Fortunately, that was all he had time to think as Klink began again.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!  
**

Unfortunately, that’s when the first twinges of pain kicked in. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered; it was a rather stingy feeling. _Definitely better than that horrible belt,_ Hogan decided. Although to be fair, **anything** was better than the belt! So there wasn’t really a comparison there. Still, inquiring minds wanted to know, so he had to ask what exactly the weapon of choice was tonight.

 _“Herr Oberst_ , what exactly is that…thing…you’re using? I’m not complaining, mind you, but I’m curious.”

Klink just shook his head. The American was still trying to be cooperative, and he had to admire that. “This? It is a plastic spoon. A green one with holes, to be precise.”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“The holes reduce wind resistance and increase the sting,” he explained.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! Yeah, I can tell,” Hogan replied. “Where’d you get that? Ow!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“From my kitchen, where else?” Klink said.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Really, you ask the most ridiculous questions sometimes, Hogan!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! No need to – Ow! – be sarcastic, _Herr Oberst_.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW!,” Hogan shot back. “It was – OW! – a simple question!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Klink sighed as he continued the spanking. “Hogan, please just call me Colonel Klink.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“I hear enough of my title in German from my colleagues. And to be perfectly honest, I would prefer to hear it in English from you.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“At least when I hear my title from you, you are not calling to scream at me or blame me for some type of nonsense.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OW! If that’s what – OWWW! – you want, then – OWWW, OWWW! – sure, Colonel Klink. OWWW!” Hogan was trying not to complain, but he couldn’t help it. Klink had been right about that increased sting!

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OW, OWWW! And how am I – OWWW, OW! – supposed to – OWWW, OWWW! – call you? OWWW! From what phone, might I ask? OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere, my dear Colonel Hogan.” Klink replied in return.

“OWWW, OWWW! It was an honest – OWWW, OWWW – question!” Hogan replied hotly. “Holy shit, that really hurts! OWWW!”

He knew he was complaining now, but it really was unavoidable. After all, it wasn’t easy lying there and receiving a bare bottom spanking with a plastic spoon! The plastic was causing the spoon to snap back and strike again in the same spot quickly, effectively making each hit equal two hits.

From his prior experience, Hogan knew it wasn’t as bad as the belt, but Hogan felt it could tie with the riding crop in his current state. _Note to self: make that spoon mysteriously ‘disappear’._ And anyway, he’d tried not to complain at first. His best was all he could do, after all.

Rolling his eyes, Klink said “ _Mein Gott_ , Hogan, a spanking is **supposed** to hurt! Apparently, I have taught you nothing regarding the effectiveness of discipline so far. I will be sure to remedy that in the future. Now enough chatter from you. Just be silent and take your punishment like a good boy.”

Well, Hogan had plenty he wanted to say to that! Snappy comebacks like _“I’d like to see you trade places with me and see how you like it!”_ , _“I’d really rather just go back to my barracks if you don’t mind.”_ and other smart aleck remarks came to mind. However, after reflecting on his current position he decided against it. It was probably best not to further anger the German who – for the moment – was making very sure he paid attention!

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!” Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Hogan knew what Klink’s goal was, and that was for him to break down crying. ‘Surrendering to his emotions’, as Klink called it. “OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!”

Even to his own ears, Hogan’s voice sounded pitiful. He was close to that point anyway, so why not just let it happen? How long had his spanking been going on anyway? Two hours? A year? Five years? He began to squirm and try to kick his feet, which did absolutely no good. Just like the last time he’d done so, Klink pinned them between his lower legs and continued spanking him. Which was actually worse, because the position meant that his buttocks were pulled taut and made every swat hurt even more!

Surely it hadn’t been five years, since such a time frame was completely unreasonable. Yet Hogan didn’t know for sure, because any time he found himself in this predicament, time seemed to both drag on and pause at the same time. And while that wasn’t physically possible, it didn’t change his take on it. Still, he did have a mulish streak a mile wide; Klink was correct in that assessment. It wasn’t in his nature to give in to anything!

Maybe he could fake it? He’d never been an actor of any kind or been in any plays, but he’d seen kids have temper tantrums in his youth. Those fake tears kids cried usually seemed to work. _It’s worth a shot, right?_

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! Owww!” Hogan tested out his theory as he let his eyes water a little. It was, needless to say, difficult and unusual to try and fake emotion.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! Owww!” Hogan was, by nature, a genuine and honest person with his emotions. Yeah, he had to keep them hidden most of the time; doing so was a necessary survival tactic in a POW camp. Come to think of it, so was his poker face. However when he did display emotion, it was real and not faked.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“I am not impressed by your crocodile tears, Hogan. I can sit here all night, you know. I cannot say the same for you; it may be awkward for you if we are still here when morning roll call happens.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Klink continued on swinging that damned spoon as he spoke. “However, I am quite comfortable. I am sure you are not, but then you are not supposed to be.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“If you are going to cry any tears, at least make them genuine. Do not insult my intelligence or yours with fake ones…which, by the way, are terrible. I have seen better in the last play I was in as a child,” he added.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

_Well, crap._ Hogan had forgotten Klink was an actor, or at least had been an aspiring one in his youth. And okay, even he had to admit that those fake tears had been terrible. The pitch had been way too low and calm, for one thing. But life had no do-overs. Therefore what was said was said, and what was done was done.

 _At least I didn’t choose that career field. One disaster averted,_ he thought. Unfortunately, he was currently weathering another one; a duo named Wilhelm Klink and his horrible spoon with holes! Or rather, his poor behind was anyway.

And in the middle of that thought, he made another alarming discovery: at some point, Klink had switched to smacking his sit spots. Obviously the older man had done this a few minutes prior, because he was already at the breaking point. Those were the most tender areas of his butt, a fact he knew from experience that Klink was aware of.

 _Trust Klink to find a weakness and exploit it!_ And as an added ‘bonus’, the _Kommandant_ always seemed to wait until Hogan was just short of breaking down to target them.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!” Overall, it was a rather terrible – yet quickly effective – way to round things off, since everything else was especially tender in comparison. As was the usual status quo, his butt felt inflamed and swollen. Hogan knew from his past punishments that when he looked in the mirror, it wouldn’t be that noticeable. Yet he felt every swat in a big way, especially given Klink’s chosen ‘weapon’! A few more and he would end up –

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWWWWWWWWIE!” – doing that. Hogan let the tears fall as he openly began to sob, and once he did it was like a dam bursting.

Damnmit, but he hated feeling like this. Robert Hogan didn’t do helpless and emotional well, he never had. He preferred to be the one doing the rescuing, not the one needing to be rescued! And by the way, what was it about these spankings that gave him ultimate clarity when it came to his personality? He didn’t know, but it really sucked!

**_ The aftermath, part one… _ **

Hogan’s shoulders started to shake as he continued to sob. Or wail, actually. Technically it was probably a cross between a loud sob and a soft wail, not that he was overly concerned about it. Hogan was more concerned about getting his current ordeal over with and finding a patch of snow to sit in.

 _Uh, it might be a little obvious something’s going on with you if you leave butt-shaped patches of melted snow everywhere,_ his common sense pointed out.

 _Oh, shut up! Who asked you anyway? Not us,_ his snarky inner voice pointed out.

A little concerned about the fact that he not only had an inner monologue but was, in fact, arguing with himself, the American didn’t register at first that a slender hand was rubbing soothing circles on his back. He knew without looking that the fingers belonging to the hand were long, and that the hand belonged to Klink.

 _Well, no shit. Who else would it belong to, dummy?_ And there was that snarky voice again!

“Robert? Robert, calm down. You did quite well,” said Klink, setting the spoon aside. “Once again, you impress me. I fully expected more grousing about this from you.”

He continued to rub those soothing circles on his chastised brat’s back, having observed previously that they seemed to help the younger colonel calm down. While the breaking down and emotional release were important for Hogan, it was equally important to put the well-spanked colonel back together again as well.

“Huh?” Not the most intelligent sentence he’d ever uttered…actually, it was close to the bottom of the list…but Hogan was still trying to get his emotions under control. He was lucky to manage to utter that, if he was honest with himself.

“What?” And there was another example of a not-so-intelligent sentence from his currently limited vocabulary.

“I said, you did quite well,” repeated Klink. “You know, I have said it before to you, but I shall repeat myself: you have a large stubborn streak, Robert. Things would go so much easier for both you and myself if you would let yourself go emotionally sooner into your punishment. I know you are in pain; I can see it and I can hear it. So why do you persist in ‘digging in your heels’, so to speak?”

Hogan hiccupped as he craned his neck to look at Klink. “I…well…” He hiccupped, took a deep breath and tried again. “It’s not on purpo –"

He hiccupped a few more times and held up a hand, motioning for Klink to give him a few minutes to gather his thoughts and calm down. As Klink nodded his acceptance of his unspoken request, he thought about how to answer that without sounding like he was trying to be difficult.

Taking another deep breath, he tried to speak yet again. “I’m not doing it on purpose. I…I just feel like it makes me look weak, you know?”

“Weak? To whom, Robert? It is just you and me in here, unless there is a ghost or something else in here with us. I do not think it makes you look weak. On the contrary, I think it is a good thing for you. There is a time to be stubborn and a time to give in. Life is all about balance.” Klink looked at the tear tracks on his senior prisoner of war officer’s face.

“I think that it would be much easier on you if you learned that,” he added thoughtfully. “I really thought tonight would be the night you would hold out until the next roll call. Although that would have been quite a show for the rest of the camp,” he teased.

Hogan cocked his head as he considered the other officer’s words. “Yeah, that’s true enough. And while I agree with you, I’m afraid it’s just not possible. I’m not hardwired that way.” He gave a small smirk. “But if you’re that concerned with making things ‘easier on me’, we don’t have to do this anymore. I promise I’ll still come and visit you so we can play chess and stuff. You know, things that involve me being able to **sit down**?”

Rolling his eyes at Klink’s suggestion, he added, “Oh yeah, that would be a real barrel of laughs…until one of my men personally delivered the war zone to us!”

Now it was Klink’s turn to roll his eyes. “Robert, you are – what is the English term – a ham?” he wondered. “Ah yes, that is it. You are such a ham! I have never met a bigger brat than you in my entire life. Even my nephews figured out not to cross me after about half a dozen times.”

 _English is indeed a strange language,_ he decided.

“Yeah, that’s the right word.” _Where did Klink learn that term?_ he wondered.

“But look, to be fair, we’ve only had four of these ‘discus –" Hogan cut himself off as he realized what he was implying.

Unfortunately, he realized that he did so too late when he saw the mischievous gleam in Klink’s eye.

 _Oh, way to go!_ _Open mouth, insert foot. You’ve done it again, Rob!_

Klink just gave him a knowing smirk. “Four? Well, you are correct, Robert. Four is indeed less than six, at least here in Germany. Two less, actually. So, what you are telling me is that you need at least two more ‘discussions’ to figure out if you can stay out of trouble then, correct?”

He appeared to mull that over. “I am sure I can arrange that, if you wish.”

He shook a slender finger at Hogan. “Actually I do not have to, come to think of it. I have every confidence in your ability to do that yourself in whatever caper you find yourself involved in next time.”

“What makes you think there’s going to be a next time? I’m not a glutton for punishment, you know.” Hogan folded his arms and pouted.

“I feel like you don’t think I can keep myself out of trouble. Trust me, this isn’t my idea of a great time. Or even a good time,” he added as an afterthought. “By the way, four is two less than six in the United States as well, sir.”

Klink just gave him an incredulous look. “So says the brat who – just two and a half weeks ago – swore that he was ‘going to be a model prisoner of war here.’ While I cannot speak for you, Robert, my memory recollection skills are excellent.”

Then he held up his hands. “Well, you have your own math system in America, unlike the rest of the world who use the metric system. How was I supposed to know that? Conversions and whatnot, you know.”

Hogan opened his mouth to deny it, but he quickly snapped it shut. Indeed, his memory recollection skills were excellent as well. And he yes, he **had** said that; but come on! Not for the first time tonight, he questioned if things said while under duress or right afterwards counted as binding.

Choosing to ignore the math systems comment, he replied, “Okay, true. But c’mon Colonel Klink, at least it wasn’t directly my fault this time! Doesn’t that count for anything?” he asked.

“A little bit, yes,” Klink conceded. “And you seem to have gotten the hang of keeping **yourself** out of trouble.”

He shrugged and added, “But once again – as I have said many times now – you are responsible for not only you, but your men as well.”

He gave the American a questioning look. “Do I honestly need to write this down for you? Maybe pin it to your bomber jacket, like teachers do when they send notes home from school with young pupils?”

Hogan groaned. “Oh, that’s hilarious. Can’t you see me just dying of laughter over here?”

He huffed and said haughtily, “And just how do you propose I explain that to my men?” Well, he said it as haughtily as one could in his current position, which to his amazement he realized was still over Klink’s lap like a little kid being scolded.

And while he knew he should be embarrassed that he was still there like that, his mind wasn’t focused on that. He was too wrapped up in his talk with Klink…and trying to figure out the best way to bait him. He’d enjoyed the adrenaline rush from the keep-away game earlier in the day, so somehow he decided that baiting the German in his present position would be a good idea to recreate it!

Klink threw up his hands. “How should I know? How do you explain anything to that ragtag group of misfits you call your men? Really, Robert, do I look like a prisoner of war to you?”

He gestured to the rest of his quarters. “In case you have not noticed, this is not a barracks; it is the **_Kommandant’s_** quarters.” He made sure to stress the word ‘ _Kommandant_ ’, just in case Hogan had missed the emphasis on it.

A frown appeared on Hogan’s face as Klink stopped speaking. “Please don’t refer to my men that way, Colonel Klink. None of us asked to be here at this fabulous country club, you know.”

Then he got the familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes, the one he got when he was plotting something. “Well, would you like to be, sir? We can trade. My office is a bit small, but it’ll work for you, I’m sure. And POWs don’t have to do any paperwork! Plus, the senior POW officer gets the daily joy of harassing the camp’s _Kommandant_. It’s really fun.” Hogan let a smirk play over his lips as he spoke.

Klink let out a groan. “You Americans and your sense of humor! How exactly would I explain that to General Burkhalter? For that matter, how would I explain that to Major Hochstetter or anyone else in Berlin?”

A thoughtful look came over his face as he actually thought it over. No paperwork, harassing Hogan daily…no! It was impossible, and anyway he didn’t fancy cold showers. “Well, I concur that you do that well enough, Robert. In fact, you do it too well.”

The American colonel shrugged and parroted the German’s colonel’s words back at him, changing only a few of them. “How should I know? How do you explain anything to that ragtag group of insane people you call your bosses? Really, sir, do I look like a camp _Kommandant_ to you?”

Oh, but it was such fun when you could turn someone’s words back on them! Truly, it was a rare treat, so Hogan relished every moment of it.

Klink narrowed his eyes. Oh, this brat thought he was funny! “I am not amused, Hogan. Not in the slightest. Now, kindly remove yourself from my lap and fix your clothing. We still need to discuss the matter of Corporal Newkirk and that codebook he stole from my safe.”

Hogan yawned and stretched his arms out in front of him, wiggling his fingers as he flexed them. “Newkirk didn’t ‘steal’ anything, sir. If he’d stolen it, he wouldn’t have still been there reading it when you and Major Hochstetter came back. He was just doing some spring cleaning for you and making sure it was something he couldn’t throw away!”

Klink gaped at his senior POW officer. “Spring cleaning? In the middle of winter? In my safe?!” he exclaimed. “That is the biggest whopper you have told me yet, Hogan. Why would he be doing spring cleaning in my safe? More importantly, how did he get **in** my safe?!”

He shook his head. “Besides, that book was Major Hochstetter’s property, not mine.”

Summoning his most innocent look, Hogan replied, “Well, yeah! You have us clean the rest of your office, and the safe needs cleaning too! Dust bunnies will kick up your allergies and make you sneeze, you know.”

Changing his look from innocent to indignant, he added, “And how was Newkirk supposed to know that? If it didn’t have Hochstetter’s name on it, he couldn’t be sure of whose it was, right? Better safe than sorry, I always say.”

He completely ignored the question of just how Newkirk had accessed the safe. If Klink didn’t know what safecracking was, Hogan sure wasn’t going to tell him!

Klink closed his eyes briefly, praying for the patience to deal with his troublemaker; the very same one whose mouth was running away with him tonight! _Since when is Hogan this bold after a spanking from me? Am I losing my touch?_ he wondered. “I agree with you, Hogan. If Hochstetter’s name wasn’t on…”

He trailed off as something else occurred to him. “But Newkirk should not have even been in my office!”

Sighing, he added, “And Hogan, I do not have…oh, never mind.” He had bigger issues at the moment than discussing dust allergies. Then he tapped Hogan on his right shoulder blade. “Now, kindly get up so we can discuss this matter like civilized people.”

The younger man just shook his head. The perfect way to bait the tall German had just come to him. He would just refuse to move until after Klink had asked his questions! Now the question was, was he pushing his luck? _Probably._ Was it stupid? _Oh, most definitely._ But the other colonel had managed to get the better of **him** lately emotionally, so turnabout was fair play!

His mind made up, Hogan replied, “If it’s all the same to you, Colonel Klink, I’ll just stay here while we talk. Might as well, you’ll probably just get all pissy with me again when you undoubtedly ask questions I can’t answer. And I don’t believe in wasting unnecessary energy.”

He shrugged. “Waste not, want not. Now, what do you want to know?”

Taken aback, Klink stared at his defiant troublemaker for a moment. Had he heard Hogan correctly just now? No, he had to have misheard his wayward brat, because there was no way Hogan had actually said that. “I shall have you know, I have never gotten what you call ‘pissy’, Colonel Hogan. But I might start if you do not get up this instant!”

Hogan shook his head. “Nope. I think I’ll pass. I’m kinda comfortable where I’m at, actually.” He made a show of yawning. “Are we gonna talk or not? This is a one night offer only, you know.”

Now Klink let out a low growl. “Robert Hogan, you have exactly two choices. You can either get yourself up off my lap, fix your clothing and sit here next to me while we discuss the matter of Corporal Newkirk. Or…” He let his voice trail off menacingly.

Hogan blinked. He heard the change in tone and knew he shouldn’t push it…but what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. And he was feeling risky tonight anyway. Besides, he’d already made up his mind, and he wasn’t a fickle sort of guy.

“I’m pretty sure you said ‘two’ choices, _Kommandant_. What’s the second one?” He didn’t think he would like the sound of the second one, but he’d come this far.

“Or…we can commence with round two of your spanking until you heed some common sense…at which point **then** you can get yourself up off my lap, fix your clothing and sit here next to me while we discuss the matter of Corporal Newkirk. Albeit with a much sorer bottom!” Klink threatened.

Surely the American wasn’t stupid enough to push him any more on this issue, right? He didn’t think so, but with Hogan you could never quite figure out which way he might go. It made hedging one’s bets almost mandatory when dealing with the sly POW officer.

Well, okay then. That had been the other choice Hogan expected, but to hear it out loud was somewhat sobering. Still, the reckless part of him that craved adrenaline was in full motion, so before he quite knew what he was doing, he replied, “You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t spank me anymore tonight. Like you’ve said before, you don’t want to injure me.”

He grinned and made a show of examining his fingernails as he added, “By the way, I like your Hochstetter impersonation. But it needs more menace, and maybe a little more of a throaty sound.”

 _Rob, you’ve got to be the dumbest individual on the planet, and I can’t deal with you anymore. You’ve gotten yourself into another stupid situation and I’m leaving you to deal with it by yourself,_ his common sense snapped at him in frustration. _Ciao!_

Okay, now why did he hear the sound of a door slamming in his head?

**_ And so, it begins again… _ **

Now it was Klink’s turn to look surprised. That was **not** what he’d expected Hogan to say! “Insolence! You think I am bluffing, do you? I shall prove to you that I am not!” He picked up his hand and began to swat the bare target in front of him, making sure to hit his sit spots.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

They weren’t overly hard ones, but enough to show he meant business. “And by the way, I do **not** sound like Hochstetter!” _Is_ _Hogan out of his mind?_ “Insufferable brat. How in the world did your parents ever deal with you?”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OW!” Okay, maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Hogan’s butt was still tender, and Klink was smacking his sit spots!

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! Hey, watch it, Colonel. That’s tender flesh!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“I’m – Ow! – not a brat, and – Ow! – I’m not insufferable! I also plead the fifth to that question.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“What are you going on about, Hogan? The fifth of what?” Klink inquired as he continued to spank.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“I do not understand you sometimes. Speak English properly, will you?”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hogan managed to roll his eyes. “Oh, you’ve got a lot of nerve! Your – OW! – native language is German.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hissing, he added, “It’s in – OW! – the American Constitution. The – OW! – fifth means I refuse to answer a question. Oww!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You have something in your Constitution that allows you free reign not to answer a question when asked?” Klink asked.

Well, that was something he hadn’t known. Germany’s rules weren’t that lenient. He filed that interesting tidbit away to wonder about later as he scoffed. “No wonder the Allies are losing the war; lack of discipline everywhere.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hogan scowled at the older man. “Yeah, except inside this room, apparently.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Oww, Oww, OWW! Hey, Iron Eagle…would you – OWW! – mind lightening up with your wings back there? Owww!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He pointedly ignored the often-heard barb about the Allies the war; every POW in Stalag 13 knew the truth for what it was. Hell, a few of the guards probably did too, but none of them were dumb enough to contradict their commanding officer about it! The threat of being sent to the Russian Front was chilling enough to keep anyone’s mouth shut.

 _Plus, you know, it’s also treason to take the enemy’s side,_ his common sense said.

 _Oh, you’re back? I thought you left me to handle this ‘dumb situation’ myself. What changed your mind?_ his inner voice asked.

 _I forgot my suitcase,_ it replied.

Oh great, now Hogan was having mental conversations with himself. Maybe he **was** ‘completely crackers’ as Newkirk might say!

Meanwhile, Klink was still swatting him, which had reignited the fire in his behind.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hogan didn’t know that was even possible, but at this point, he wasn’t surprised. Deciding to make use what he’d discovered earlier, he didn’t kick his feet this time as he didn’t want his legs pinned again. Instead, he squirmed around and tried to get away from Klink.

Hogan thought about maybe trying to roll onto the floor or something…or really anywhere in which he could get his bare butt out of Klink’s spanking range. It was worth a shot, right? Yet the table was too close to carry out this move in reality, not that he got a chance to find that out firsthand. Not being experienced at evading this sort of thing, Hogan didn’t move fast enough.

It only resulted in the German officer grabbing him around the waist mid-roll before yanking the American officer back into place on his lap. And the worse part was he never even let up spanking him while he did it! Then Klink proceeded to pin his legs anyway, causing the same situation as before. Only now it was worse since he’d shown his hand, and he was pretty sure Klink knew it.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“A good attempt at escaping me, Colonel Hogan, but not good enough. Do you really think no one has tried that before?”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You really are a glutton for punishment, hmmm? At the rate you are going, Hogan, I will have to keep you here and teach you proper discipline until after the end of the war! And perhaps through the end of the next war too,” he added thoughtfully.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Oh yeah, Klink definitely knew it and he didn’t sound too happy about it. God above, how long had round two of his spanking been going on? It felt like an additional five years, especially since his rear end was already extremely tender from the first round!

“The **next** war? Geez, _Kommandant_ , isn’t two wars enough for you? Are you gonna start the next one?” Hogan grinned…but since he was gritting his teeth in pain when the swats landed, it didn’t look very nice.

“Well, if you are, it’s a good idea if you start it…then you can make yourself a general! Wait, can you promote yourself in the military?” he wondered out loud. “I know the wanna-be painter with the moustache did it, but he’s crazy anyway, so –"

“ **HOGAN!** I will remind you that that is our beloved _Führer_ you are speaking of!” Klink exclaimed.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You dare to disrespect him in the middle of Germany?!” _Hogan must be completely mad,_ he decided.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“And I will also remind you that **you** instigated this second round of punishment. I did tell you to get up before I began.” he pointed out. “Several times, in fact. I have also informed you before that I do not joke about such things.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“I shall also thank you not to mock me; after all, you are not in a position to really do so at the moment,” he added with a smug look.

“OWWWW! Well, you did it before,” the American pointed out reasonably. “OWW! And I’d like to – OW! – point out that he’s not my ‘beloved _Führer_ ’. I’m an American and we – OW! – have a democracy and a president like – OWW! – most normal people!”

Damn, but now he was definitely sure that antagonizing Klink with a still-sore bottom hadn’t been the best idea! “Me? I was – OW, OWW, OWWW! – just trying to save you some effort by staying where I was!”

Yep, the fire in his tail had been successfully relit, and he was going to have to have to throw in the towel in about a minute. _Okay, chalk this one up as a bad idea to never repeat. Put it on the ‘never do it again’ list, right below earning Klink’s belt,_ he thought mournfully.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

His response wiped the smug look right off Klink’s face. Hogan had a point in that regard. Rather than lowering himself to reply to that comment, he glanced down at the current target he was disciplining. Much as he would like to teach the flippant American officer a thing or two about challenging him, he was going to have to stop.

Because, once again, Hogan was correct. Klink didn’t want to injure him, only teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, he knew he had a bit of a temper…and the only two men in this camp who could successfully raise it every time were the troublemaker over his lap and his Sergeant of the Guard. And woe was him when they teamed up!

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

That decided, he sighed with resignation. He would end the spanking for tonight, but it would be with ‘twelve of the best’. That term was normally only used when receiving a caning in schools, but it still applied here, nonetheless. The swats to Hogan’s sit spots – which until now had been firm but not overly hard – were about to become harder. Call it a finishing move, if you will.

Then Klink raised his hand and brought it down twelve quick times in a row with as much force as he dared to use.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He stopped and lowered his hand as he noticed a sudden pressure on his other arm. “Hogan, I – _Was tust du?_ ” he asked, bewildered. He’d felt something there earlier, but he hadn’t really looked to see what it was until now.

**_ The aftermath, part two… _ **

Klink looked down at his senior POW officer, whose shoulders were shaking and who was quietly sobbing. Normally when the American did that, he was a bit more vocal. _Maybe he just does not have the energy to do so?_ his inner voice asked.

Klink had to admit that he’d probably worn the younger man out, but only a fool would challenge their disciplinarian right after a spanking! Especially when that person wasn’t even out of the line of fire yet. He eyed the bare bottom in front of him with a trained eye. He had to conclude that it probably hurt like hell, especially with the fire so quickly reignited in it! Yet other than that, it didn’t look too bad. The skin was a dark pink tonight instead of red or bruised.

 _The spoon is a good choice for this then,_ he mused. _It produces maximum results with minimal damage._

It was also interesting to see that Hogan had grabbed his lower arm at some point and was holding onto it like a life preserver in the ocean. Well that explained the sudden pressure on his arm he had just noticed, at any rate.

Hogan, who had previously been gripping the arm of the sofa for all he was worth, had switched to holding onto something else in the last minute or two. Wanting something – not softer, but more comforting, somehow – he’d switched his grip onto Klink’s non-dominant lower arm instead, the one not attached to the hand punishing him. He couldn’t really say why, other than it just seemed like the thing to do. He blinked, trying to clear away the tears but not wanting to let go of his current anchor. Going through two rounds of discipline under Klink in one night had almost wiped him out emotionally.

As a result, he wasn’t sure how well he was going to be able to focus on giving safe answers to Klink’s questions. He would manage it, of course, because he had to. But it would be an interesting experience anyway. And was he still being spanked? He thought he might be, but his ears seemed to have clogged a little. The result made sound kind of hazy. And either way, his rear end was on fire…again! There was absolutely no way he could handle any more of this tonight.

“I give up! You were right, okay? Just sto…sto…stooppp!” he managed to get out as the wave of emotions hit him for the second time that night.

“Ho –" Klink cut himself off mid-word, switching to the more familiar form of address he used with Hogan after a spanking. Why was Hogan asking him, Wilhelm, to stop spanking him, Hogan, when he’d already done so? Then it dawned on Klink what was happening.

 _Oh dear, he thinks he is still being punished! I must fix this._ “Robert. Robert, listen to me.”

He began to rub soothing circles on Hogan’s back for the second time that evening. “It is done. No more punishment tonight. Sssh, calm down. I promise you, it cannot be that bad. Come on now, stand up and have a look in the mirror. Believe you me, your bottom has looked far worse at other times.”

Clearly, his brat had learned a painful lesson, one that he would hopefully remember! That was the hope as he continued to rub the other man’s back. “Robert, can you hear me?”

Hogan was still gripping his arm in a death grip and not answering him back, which was a bit worrisome.

Hogan nodded his head, slowly becoming aware that Klink had stopped spanking him…for the second time that night!

 _Well look, you can’t blame this one on him,_ his common sense piped up. _You challenged him and brought it on yourself!_

Okay, that much was true. But so much of what Klink said or threatened to do was mostly bluster anyway, so how was he to know that this was the one time the tall German would follow through?

“I…I…yeah,” he said, his voice still tearful. He hiccupped and took a deep breath before hiccupping again. “Just…hang on.” Then he hiccupped a third time and took another deep breath.

Klink inclined his head in agreement and replied, “Take your time. Although not too much of it if you please, as it is just past 2300 hours.” (11:00pm.)

Deciding to give Hogan some space to gather his thoughts, he silently kept rubbing circles on the other officer’s back in an attempt to help him in his efforts.

Slowly, Hogan was able to calm himself down enough to where he could talk without hiccupping after about five minutes.

“Well, that was…an interesting experience.” He tried to smile, but it was very faint. “Am I…am I bleeding? How bad is it?”

“An ‘interesting experience’, he calls it,” Klink muttered. “Robert, you are the only person I know – that I have **ever** known – who I could spank the living daylights out of and yet you just call it ‘an interesting experience.’ What am I going to do with you?”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “But to answer your question: no, you are not bleeding.” The German colonel sounded highly offended at the mere suggestion. “I told you I would never injure you, and I keep my word. Or have you not figured that out in the last fifteen minutes or so? Stubborn brat!”

He tapped Hogan’s right shoulder blade again. “And the skin is not even bruised. So, let us try this again, shall we? Up you get, and you can look at your bottom in the mirror. I am certain that it feels far worse than it looks.”

“There’s no possible way it can only feel worse than it looks. My butt feels like I sat in lava!” Hogan exclaimed.

But since he didn't want to push his luck a third time tonight, Hogan nodded. Forgetting that he was still gripping Klink’s lower arm, he went to get up. But since he was still holding onto the older man, he encountered some resistance in that regard.

“Um, I’m not trying to disobey you again or anything tonight _Kommandant_ …but I think I’m stuck somehow,” he said sheepishly.

“That would be because you have to let go of my arm first, Robert,” Klink pointed out with an amused grin. “Though I admit, you are quite strong.”

Then Hogan let go of his arm and Klink moved it around, trying to get the feeling back into it. “ _Danke_. You have a good grip on you.”

Now it was Hogan’s turn to grin as he stood up. “Thanks. Sorry about that sir. I’m not sure when that happened, since originally I was holding onto the arm of the sofa.”

He jerkily staggered to his feet but didn’t make any move to pull up his briefs. “Okay…where’s there a mirror in here?”

“In the bedroom, to the right of the dresser you left your uniform pants on the last time you were here,” Klink replied. “You will not be able to miss it.”

As he stood, he noticed Hogan walking backward toward the bedroom instead of forward. It was a classic move to keep one’s butt out of the line of fire – so to speak – and the very sight of it made him grin. He remembered doing that himself a few times, but it was funny to see it done when it wasn’t you in trouble! The older man followed Hogan into the bedroom and flipped on the light.

“See? Like I told you, it certainly feels worse than it looks, yes?”

“No kidding. I was fully expecting to see...okay, I don’t know what I was expecting to see, but it wasn’t this,” Hogan admitted. “I guess I figured I’d be bruised all to hell and back.”

“Language, Robert,” Klink chided. “And no, but I can do that for you next time if you wish.”

He let out a small chuckle at the stunned look on Hogan’s face, which was priceless. “I said ‘next time’ Robert, not tonight. So relax. Anyway, I was only joking; I would never set out with the express intention of bruising you.”

He motioned to the American’s waist. “Do you require some assistance fixing your clothing, or can you manage?”

“What I ‘require’ is permission from you to go outside and sit in the snow for about an hour…just until the lava fire in my butt cools off,” Hogan grumbled. “Just tell the guards I’m trying to discover the meaning of life while I’m out there or something.”

Then he pulled up his briefs, letting out an audible hiss of pain as he did so. “You think if I only sit outside for an hour, it’ll have snowed enough by morning to cover the few butt-shaped patches of melted snow?” he inquired.

Klink raised his eyebrows at the strange question. _Butt-shaped patches of melted snow?_ he wondered. His bottom wasn’t literally hot enough to melt snow. Hogan was such a drama queen!

“Indeed, it will have…but then you will get sick from sitting outside in freezing weather. That is a risk to your health, and you are not allowed to do that. So that entire chain of events would end with you right back in here with me again. You will end up having those six ‘discussions’ with me yet, little brat,” Klink replied with a smirk.

“I’ll pass on that generous offer, thanks. And doesn’t tonight technically count as two ‘discussions’?” asked Hogan as he crossed his arms and huffed.

He motioned for Klink to lead the way out of the bedroom and back to the sofa as he turned off the light behind them. He wasn’t taking any chances on a surprise swat or two ‘just because’, since he now knew Klink could be devious when he wanted to be. As the pair reached the sofa, he carefully put back on his uniform pants and buckled them.

Then he moved the pillow he normally sat on afterwards next to Klink, who had already taken a seat. Yet Hogan himself still stood, looking around for something softer to put on top of the pillow. Somehow, he figured he would need it tonight!

“Are you waiting for a written invitation, Robert? If you are, then I am afraid you are out of luck, as there is no mail on Sundays and tomorrow is Sunday. Now sit down,” said Klink irritably. What in the world was his senior POW officer doing now?

“No sir, I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out how many pillows I need to make this softer to – hey!” Hogan yelped in surprise as Klink reached out and yanked him down by the arm to sit on the sofa.

He groaned as his sore butt made harsher contact with the pillow then he’d planned on. “Owww!” He looked at the other colonel, stuck out his lower lip in his best pout and gave him innocent puppy dog eyes. “That really hurt!”

Rolling his eyes, Klink said, “Drama queen. It was your own fault for not sitting down in a timely matter, but now your problem is solved. You are sitting here, and we can discuss the matter of Corporal Newkirk. After an hour of your foolishness, I might add,” he said wryly.

“Only an hour? You’ve gotta be mistaken, sir. That first round felt like five years, and the second one felt like another five years so…I’d say we’re somewhere in the 1950s now, right? Hey, is the war over yet?” Hogan asked hopefully.

“Very funny, Robert. But I am afraid you exaggerate. If the war is indeed over, I would say the Allies invaded rather quietly, would you not agree?” Klink replied drily.

He didn’t wonder why he just assumed that the Allies would win, since it was merely a slip of the tongue. Or at least that was the lie he was telling himself – to actually admit that an Allied victory seemed inevitable at this point, even to himself – seemed unwise.

“Also, that would mean they never thought to search in here for anyone…or if they did, they saw the leader of the POWs in here with me being spanked and decided not to interfere. Perhaps your brass agrees with my methods then, hmmm?” asked Klink with a smirk.

Folding his arms and huffing for the third time that night, the senior POW snapped back, “Who was exaggerating? I’m telling you, time seems to stop when I’m in here. And that’s not a good thing!” he added.

The mental image of General Barton or anyone else seeing him spanked like that made him shudder.

“I really hope not. I don’t know about the _Luftwaffe_ , but you’ve got a lot of people you have to climb over to become a colonel in the Army Air Force. I’m sure there are quite a few people who’d love to have a crack at me,” Hogan informed him.

When had huffing become a habit of his? Hogan wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be an instinctive move lately on his part. Well, that and pouting. Klink made him feel like he was a little kid who got caught stealing cookies or something, and it sucked!

“Not that I’d let them, mind you,” he added. “I only let –" Hogan abruptly shut up as he realized for the second time that night he was giving away the game.

Was it too much to hope that Klink wouldn’t notice it? His heart sank as he saw the curious gleam in the other man’s eyes. Yep, apparently it **was** too much to hope for. Oh, this didn’t bode well, because no doubt the older man would want an explanation.

Raising an eyebrow, Klink asked “Only let…what?”

He eyed Hogan suspiciously. He had an inkling what might have been left unsaid, but he wanted confirmation from the younger man. This should be interesting to hear, if what Hogan hadn’t said was what he thought it might be.

“This, I wish to hear. What were you going to say, Robert?” He shook a slender finger in warning. “And do not lie to me. I may tolerate many things from you at times, but lying is not one of them.”

Well, he’d done it now. Normally Robert Hogan could dance around Wilhelm Klink all day long verbally. He could weave so many half-truths and lies that the _Kommandant_ wouldn’t know which way was up, even if you paid him to know. Unfortunately, after these ‘discussions’ it was like he was more emotionally vulnerable. Either that, or Klink got smarter somehow. He would have to keep an eye on that, because too much information in the wrong hands could be dangerous for both parties.

Sighing, Hogan steeled his nerves for what he was about to say. He **really** didn’t do emotional or sappy well. Then he replied in a soft voice, “You, sir.“

He looked Klink in the eye, his own brown eyes meeting blue ones. “I only let you do this to me. Nobody else.”

Then he looked away in embarrassment, focusing on his hands…which were folded in his lap. “I have no idea why…well, actually that’s not all the way truthful. I do, but it’s embarrassing.”

“And why would that be, Robert?” Klink asked him in a gentle voice. He knew it was hard to admit to something that you needed help with, especially when you didn’t want to admit you needed the help. Yet he had to know where this was going. What was on Hogan’s mind?

Normally, he would insist the other officer look at him when speaking as a sign of respect, but he could see this was a touchy issue for Hogan. Noting this, he didn’t force the issue. Instead, Klink let him speak.

Hogan blew out a breath of air upward, causing his black hair to ruffle slightly. “Well, I…” He coughed and tried again. “I know you…” Damnmit, why couldn’t he spit the words out?

 _Come on, you’ve got this!_ There was his inner voice again, cheering him on.

He turned his head back to look at Klink, who looked surprisingly gentle for a man who’d just spent the last hour continuously lighting his tail on fire not only once, but twice!

“I…Iknowyou’rejusttryingtohelpmebeabetterperson,” he said quickly.

The words were all jumbled together, and he was quite sure they weren’t understandable at all. Maybe he should try that again?

“Sorry, that was awful, huh?” he asked with the shadow of a grin. “Let me try that again.”

He was still looking at Klink, but he closed his eyes when he spoke this time. He needed to focus on enunciating slowly and clearly, plus he couldn’t bear it if he saw pity in Klink’s blue eyes.

“What I said was, I know you’re just trying to help me be a better person. You don’t do this because you haven’t got anything better to do, because you’re sadistic or anything else. You do it because you apparently give a damn about me for some odd reason – I don’t know why, I’m only a prisoner here – and that’s different than the reason anyone else would try to do this. They’d do it for laughs, to humiliate me or blackmail me. But you?” Hogan shook his head. “You’re different is all.”

He forced a chuckle. “That was probably the sappiest thing I’ve ever said. Just ignore it.”

Blinking, Klink didn’t speak as Hogan translated his previous mumbling. He had to admit it was a surprise to hear the American admit how he saw things. Certainly, it was a surprise how Hogan saw him.

But there was one thing that bothered him, which he would address now. “Robert, open your eyes please. I need you to hear this, and I need you to know that I mean it. So I would like you to look at me.”

Shaking his head, Hogan replied, “I can hear you just fine, sir.”

His cheeks were still burning from being embarrassed, and he wanted time to let the pity, if there was any, in Klink’s eyes disappear first.

Swinging his fist as he sometimes did, Klink said “ _Mmmmpf!_ You little brat, you will open your eyes this instant!” the German officer commanded. That did the trick, as Hogan’s eyes flew open in shock at his tone.

“ _Danke_. Now, you listen to me and you listen well, understand?” As Hogan nodded, Klink continued speaking.

“You are correct that I am not sadistic or lack things to do. I have the opposite problem, truth be told. I ‘give a damn about you’ as you so eloquently put it, because you happen to be a decent human being. I know no other officer who would come in here and subject himself to my discipline just to keep his men safe. Even if it was my idea,” he added.

“They would simply try to escape or refuse to cooperate. Now I am not saying for you to do either one!” he added hastily. “As you know, *there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13. Nor will there ever be one while I am in command here. Still, you are cut from a different cloth in both your personality and the way you appear to lead.”

He made sure to keep eye contact with Hogan, because clearly the younger man had never been told any of this and he needed to hear it. Everyone needed to feel valued!

“You are one of a kind, Robert Hogan, and I hope you realize that. Your closest men that you are always around – Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau, Sergeants Carter and Kinchloe – seem to agree with me on this as well, for I have seen them start or stop trouble under your direction. You do not have to say a word either; you just make a quick gesture or simply look at them and they obey you. On occasion, they have even helped my guards contain problems in the camp. That says much about your leadership style. Do you understand that? Because you need to,” he finished.

Well, what was he supposed to say to that? That was a heartfelt speech from Klink if he’d ever heard one, and Hogan was indeed touched by it. There was only one thing he could say to that.

“Thanks, _Kommandant_. It’s just…it sucks here, you know? I just want to go home, back to the United States and my apartment there. There’s a lot of pressure on me here as the only officer, and it can get difficult sometimes. I wasn’t trying to make you my therapist or anything, but –like you’ve said before – we’re the only colonels here. So, I guess…thanks for talking to me?” he finished lamely.

“Do you think I do not know that, Robert? I have the same pressures you do, if not more because everything here falls on my shoulders. It is the responsibility of being the _Kommandant_ , and why only a trained officer can be one.” Klink shrugged and added, “If you or anyone else here gets hurt, it is on me. If any of the paperwork is late, it is on me. Ordering supplies, keeping up with repairs…everything here falls on my shoulders,” Klink said.

“I know you want to go home. And so does everyone else here, I am sure. Well, maybe not Sergeant Schultz,” he added with a chuckle. “He complains often enough about his wife. Still, this is not the ideal place to be and I know that. But I will lend an ear if you wish to talk with me. Although the same thing in return would be ideal, it is not required for me to hear you out. But being an officer is not easy, which is one of the reasons I do this for you. Now,” he said briskly, changing the subject. “Let us discuss Corporal Newkirk. Since I know he will not be honest with me, tell me why he was in my office.”

**_ Finally getting around to the heart of the issue… _ **

And so, the questions began. Obviously Hogan couldn’t tell him why Newkirk was really there or what he was really doing, so he made up another lie. Which kind of made him sad to do after their emotional talk, but hey, it had to be done. “Well, Newkirk, he’s kind of an oddball,” began Hogan. “You remember that one guy we had here for a little why before the Gestapo hauled him off? Sergeant Flood?” At Klink’s nod, Hogan continued. “Well, Newkirk was a magician before the war. He wasn’t an escape artist like Flood was, though. He did stuff like sleight of hand, picked supposedly unpickable locks, that sort of thing.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Newkirk reading Major Hochstetter’s codebook? I really despise that man and I do not wish him in my camp,” replied Klink.

“I’m getting to it sir, just hold on. Like I said, that was his trade.” Hogan was warming up to his tall tale now. “So, he’s gotta do something after the war, right? Which means he’s got to keep his skills sharp. Thus, he picks locks. I swear he’s picked every lock in every Barracks at least twice. Now, have you ever noticed the way he talks?” asked Hogan. “He’ll drop his ‘h’ sounds and such? Like instead of saying hello he’ll say ‘ello’? Surely you’ve noticed it, _Kommandant_ ,” Hogan added.

The German colonel frowned. “But that is just his English accent, is it not? All of the Englishmen in the camp sound similar,” he said.

Hogan shook his head. “Yes and no,” he replied. At the confused look on Klink’s face, he continued on. “Okay look, the reason the other RAF men sound similar is because they’re all from the same area. Where Newkirk is from is a poor part of England, along with the other RAF men here. As a result, they’re not educated that well. That’s why they all joined the military, because they wanted to get paid to travel to other countries and educate themselves at the same time. Plus, they’re protecting their homeland. It’s a win-win for them!”

Klink cocked his head as he considered this. “So, what you are saying, Hogan, is –”

“– that the story he gave you about brushing up on his reading skills was true? Yep,” said Hogan. “He was going to try and polish up his English skills first, but since English is derived from German, he saw a rare opportunity to better himself in another language and took it. Like I said before, sir, if Newkirk had wanted to steal that codebook, he wouldn’t have still been there when you and our neighborhood Gestapo major came back.”

Hogan had to admit he was proud of how fast he’d come up with this whopper of a tale on the spot. _Never let it be said that my improvising skills have rusted in here,_ he thought.

Shrugging, Klink said “Well, I suppose I cannot fault a man for wanting to better himself. Germany is a country rich in culture, and we prize learning.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, do tell Corporal Newkirk that if he is that desperate for a German book to read, I shall find him something else…something else **not** in my safe or belonging to Major Hochstetter!” he added sharply. “Do I make myself clear, Hogan? And tell him my safe is off limits to practice his skills on!”

“Perfectly, sir. I’ll be sure and tell him that.” Hogan nodded his head, happy he’d saved his team from a sticky situation. “Can I go now? It’s getting late, and some of us have to stand outside and freeze during roll call for what feels like hours.”

“By all means. You are correct, it is getting late.” Klink stood up and added, “I have to freeze out there in the mornings too, you know.”

Hogan snorted. “You? Please. You come outside long enough to bellow ‘Re-pooorrrrrrrt!’ in a loud voice and Schultz tells you we’re all present and accounted for. Then you dismiss him and you disappear. And I do mean you bellow that word. You’re out there about a minute, tops. Meanwhile we’re all standing in that cold wind and turning blue.” Hogan drew out the word ‘report’ the way Klink often did.

“By the way, I have a small request. Could you not be so loud when you call for the roll call results in the morning? All of us are still half asleep, and it hurts our ears. Plus, you might knock the icicles off the roof!” He smirked at Klink. “You’ve done it before with snow when that General was with us at the Hofbrau!”

“I will have you know, Hogan, that I…do I really sound like that?” Klink wondered.

At the American’s nod, he winced. “That sounds simply terrible. I will adjust how I say ‘report’ then. And I shall try to lower the volume of my voice somewhat in the morning, yes?”

“That’d be much appreciated, Colonel Klink. Thanks,” Hogan said as he stood up and let out a low hiss of pain. The pain in his butt – which had ebbed a little bit until now – flared up again. “Owwww.”

He looked over at the _Kommandant_ again. “Anybody ever tell you you’re extremely thorough when you do something?”

“One of my many talents, Hogan,” chuckled Klink. “It seems to be inbred into the German people. Oh, and by the way, I just realized that I never answered your question from earlier.”

“What question was that, sir?” inquired Hogan as he put on his bomber jacket and zipped it up.

Klink gave him a ‘nasty-happy’ grin. “The one about whether tonight counts as two ‘discussions’, of course.”

He saw the hopeful look on the American colonel’s face and added, ‘The answer is no. But nice try, little brat.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” muttered Hogan as his face fell. “I feel cheated somehow, like I paid for two shows but only got to see one.”

“Do not fret. I will make it up to you next time, Hogan,” replied Klink with a smirk. “I would hate for you to feel cheated, after all.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” sighed Hogan. “That’s what I get for trying to be cooperative with you. By the way, please don’t mention to Newkirk or any of the other RAF men what I told you about their lack of education. They don’t like people to know about it; it’s a sensitive subject with them.”

“Well, you did quite admirably at cooperating, at least in the beginning. I will give you credit for that,” said Klink. “And I understand; such things have a reason to be a rather sore spot. I will say nothing about it to any of them.” 

Then he gave his senior POW officer a salute. “ _Gute nacht,_ Colonel Hogan.”

Hogan let out a groan. “If this is what being cooperative gets me, I’ll skip it next time.”

He returned the salute before saying, “ _Gute nacht_ , Colonel Klink.” Then he opened the door, exited Klink’s quarters and left.

As Klink closed the door behind the wily American, he shook his head. He was beginning to think he would never get through to the younger man!

But right now, he had other things to do, like put his spoon in the sink to wash later and get ready for bed. He really hoped Hogan wouldn’t keep challenging him, because he was running out of different things to use for punishments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I double-checked a picture of the badge Klink wears on Google before writing this chapter. It’s really called a Luftwaffe Observer Badge and, to quote Wikipedia, it means that the wearer was “qualified for the badge after completing two months of qualifying service and five operational flight's in the role of observer, navigator or bombardier; also, it could be awarded after a member of the German Air Force was wounded while acting in the capacity of an observer during a qualifying flight.” Obviously, I took the second reason for obtaining the badge and modified it. Call it creative license. :)**
> 
> **My mom actually used the exact spoon that was described in this chapter on me, several times…in the same manner, on my bare butt. Trust me when I say I’m not exaggerating any of this when I describe the pain! It really does snap back as described. And yes, I made it ‘disappear’ once…no, it didn’t end well for me. It stings a lot, but it can be used for a good long while without doing any physical damage like bruising. A great tool for the spanker, not so great for the spankee!**


	5. I'm Pretty Sure The Universe Hates Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corporal LeBeau steals some very rare ingredients that Colonel Klink needed for a party with General Burkhalter. As we all know, Burkhalter loves food. Thus, he wasn’t happy about the theft at all! So of course, he screams at Klink about it. In turn, Klink targets the root of the issue…and that root just so happens to be LeBeau’s commanding officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
>   
>  Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Kommandtur_ =Commander’s office  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Verboten_ = Forbidden  
>  _Schnell_ = Quickly/hurry up  
>  _Guten abend_ = Good evening  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Bitte_ = Please  
>  _Gib mir einen guten Grund, warum ich dir zuhören sollte, wenn du mir gegenüber so respektlos bist._ = Give me one good reason why I should listen to you when you are so disrespectful towards me.  
>  _Ich habe keinen guten Grund...zumindest keinen, den **Sie** für einen guten Grund halten würden. Und können wir wieder auf Englisch umsteigen? _ = I don't have a good reason...well, at least not one **you'd** think was a good reason. And can we switch back to English?  
>  _Ja_ = Yes  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Reichsmarshall_ = Marshall of the Reich (Hermann Göring’s title)  
>  _Wehrmacht_ = The collective name of the German armed forces from 1935 – 1945  
>  _Führer_ = Leader (Adolf Hitler’s title)  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Was ist es?_ = What is it?  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Wunderbar_ = Wonderful  
>  _Luft Stalag_ = Stalag is short for _‘Stammlager’_ , which is short for _'Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager'_. It translates to ‘Air Force prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Kommandanten_ = Commanders  
>  _Frauen_ = Women  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night  
> 

**_ Inside the Kommandtur… _ **

At this point, Colonel Hogan was pretty sure that someone up there hated him. First he managed to cause himself three punishments, then Newkirk had, and now LeBeau? Oh yeah, the universe surely had it out for him.

He was sitting in Colonel Klink’s office, listening to the German ramble on about something. Yet Hogan wasn’t listening, nor had he been since he’d sat down. He had other things on his mind, like wondering like when Klink was going to scream at him for the LeBeau issue. And he already knew what would happen later on in Klink’s quarters when he got called in because of said issue.

Part of him hoped Klink would let this incident go, but Hogan wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that. He couldn’t even fool himself, and that was just sad. His backside tingled when he thought of the end result that always occurred. Somehow, he seemed to attract trouble like a magnet! _Maybe Klink’s right…maybe I really **am** a troublemaker,_ he mused. _Nah, there’s no way. The Iron Eagle’s just messing with me when he says that, trying to intimidate me._

The problem that the senior POW officer was worried about was a fairly big one. LeBeau had stolen some ingredients from the officer’s mess. Not that the Frenchman didn’t do that on a regular basis, mind you, but this was different. These ingredients had been something that were common elsewhere, but exceedingly rare in the unusually cold German winters…tomatoes. Hogan and his team had filched them out from under the _Luftwaffe_ guard’s nose after Kinch had distracted the guard with some type of technical talk of radios and how they produced signals.

Okay, Hogan admitted that he didn’t have a clue what they’d been talking about. But the distraction had worked anyway. The American colonel and his men had enjoyed some spaghetti and red sauce made with real tomatoes! While LeBeau had complained about making an Italian dish, he’d relented after the three Americans in their little group admitted that they missed it. And as always, he took the opportunity to demonstrate ‘fine French cuisine’ to them.

No, the tomato theft itself wasn’t the problem. The problem was Klink had yet to summon him to the _Kommandtur_ to discuss this, and that concerned him. Thanks to the Heroes’ coffeepot that resided in Hogan’s ‘office’, he had learned that those tomatoes were supposed be part of a special dinner.

The dinner in question was for General Burkhalter and a very special guest of his. Specifically, an old friend of the fat Austrian’s. That friend was a general, and he just happened to be a personal friend of Adolf Hitler as well.

Burkhalter, being the type of man that he was, saw his opportunity to show off by promising an excellent French dish made with very rare ingredients. Unlike the other visiting generals that had been here, Alois Dietrich was the equivalent of a four-star general in the US Army Air Force and outranked Burkhalter. In other words, he was technically both Klink and Burkhalter’s boss, and not a man the two German officers wanted to displease.

Not that Hogan had needed to eavesdrop at all, mind you. Of all people, **Corporal Langenscheidt** had told him later on that the fat general had looked utterly murderous at being embarrassed in front of his old friend. The German corporal had also said that Burkhalter had looked ready to shoot Klink then, consequences be damned. He also admitted that the reason he was the messenger was twofold.

The first reason was that Sergeant Schultz was busy elsewhere trying to placate General Dietrich with something else to eat that was just as good. And as the Sergeant of the Guard’s second-in-command, it fell to him to deliver such a message to the senior POW officer.

If there was one thing Dietrich and Schultz shared, it was a love of food. With both of them being somewhat of a food connoisseur, the two large men had found some common ground discussing different foods, their wives and military life…that is, after Schultz had figured out how to speak again in the presence of such an important man in the Reich.

The second reason was that Klink had done as Hogan expected: stammered out that he had no clue where the tomatoes had gone, since he hadn’t eaten them! None of his guards had touched them either under the threat of being transferred to the Russian Front, and he just didn’t know what could have happened to them.

After listening to the German colonel’s excuses, Burkhalter had thrown up his hands and threatened to have Klink transferred to the Russian Front, along with every other guard at Stalag 13 for being an accomplice to the theft. Yet Klink’s chicken streak had bought him valuable time, as it turned out.

Langenscheidt’s understanding of the situation was that Dietrich had definitely been disappointed about the lack of tomatoes that’d resulted in the missing dish. Yet he’d ordered a furious Burkhalter to stand down when he returned with Klink’s second-in-command, stating that there he would not be either killing or transferring the _Kommandant_ of the most successful POW camp in Germany.

Naturally, Klink had fallen all over himself at this praise. He had beamed and thanked Dietrich repeatedly, with Dietrich waving it off absentmindedly. Smiling, he’d remarked to Klink, _“What a nice man Sergeant Schultz is, and so intelligent too. You really should promote him, Herr Colonel.”_ Then he had left along with a slightly calmer Burkhalter, leaving Schultz smiling and Klink scowling.

Granted, Klink was a career officer by his own admission, which meant he was trying to climb up the ladder. Hogan could understand that. Hell, he could understand basking in the multiple opportunities to impress the brass. Yet what puzzled Hogan was why so many officers seemed to visit the camp instead of focusing on fighting the war that their leader had started. Though who was he to complain if the Germans couldn’t prioritize what was important? That was a benefit to the Allies, if anything.

Still, what he **didn’t** understand was what drew everyone to Stalag 13 in the first place. The only reason he could think of was that the German colonel’s ‘no escape’ record mystified the brass in Berlin just as much as it did everyone else. Either that, or Hochstetter’s claims of him being Papa Bear had gotten around. He knew that if it were the other way around with a German POW, **he’d** be curious to see how an ordinary prisoner of war could supposedly be the United States’ number one enemy. But –

The American’s thoughts were interrupted as Klink slammed his hand down on the desk. The loud sound made him jump as he became aware of Klink repeating his name in an irritated voice. Hogan blinked and looked at the tall German. He didn’t appear to be happy, since he wore a scowl that twisted his features unpleasantly.

“I’m sorry, what did you say sir?” inquired Hogan. He hadn’t meant to let his mind wander, and getting caught at it didn’t sit well with him.

“Colonel Hogan, have you heard a word I have said in the last few minutes?” The question wasn’t asked in a friendly tone of voice as Klink glared more fiercely at him.

Shifting in his seat, Hogan smiled sheepishly. “Um…no?” The thunderous look was enough of a reply for him, so he hastened to add, “But _Kommandant,_ I –”

And that was as far as he got before the next words made his stomach clench. “You obviously have more important things on your mind at the moment, and therefore cannot focus on what I am telling you. Hence, we will discuss the current caper you have created later on this evening.” Klink gave him a nasty smirk, the one that said he meant business. “You know the routine by now, yes?”

“Now wait a minute, Colonel Klink! I protest that decision! I also request that you hear me out,” replied Hogan. To be fair, he was only stalling for time. He wasn’t sure what excuse he was going to give for completely tuning out the German officer, should he decide to honor the request. Fortunately for him, he was spared that indignity.

Raising an eyebrow, Klink asked him sarcastically, “Why? You have been blatantly ignoring **me** for the last fifteen minutes, but now you want me to hear **you** out?” Shaking his head, he added “*Request denied! Now get out of my office. I have work to do.” Saluting Hogan, he added, “Dis-missed!”

Feeling dread gather in the pit of his stomach but nodding anyway, the American forced a smile to his face. He saluted Klink – who was already absorbed in his paperwork again – and exited the _Kommandtur._

_Wonderful,_ he thought sarcastically. _Another ‘discussion’ with Klink tonight, and I don’t even know why!_ Well, it was his own fault for not paying attention, he supposed. Sometimes, he really cursed his lack of attention span.

**_ 2200 hours, Klink’s quarters… _ **

Klink gathered the chosen implement for tonight and made himself comfortable. In the spirit of his decision from their last discussion, he had left the coffee table pushed away from the sofa. It just seemed easier to leave it there than to keep moving it. In in his hand, he held a family heirloom.

The hairbrush had been his grandmother’s, but he had little use for it anymore. The tall German knew he was balding, because he wasn’t blind. To add insult to injury, Hogan used many opportunities to remind him of that…either in subtle ways by running his hand through his hair or just outright saying it.

The hairbrush was made of a cherrywood and oak blend, which made it both solid and gave it a nice dark red color as well. He smirked as he pictured its new use in turning his persistent troublemaker’s bottom the same shade of red as the hairbrush. The bristles themselves were of good quality as well, since they were strong and firm. Yet Klink wasn’t overly concerned about that aspect, since he wouldn’t be using that side. That side could do some serious damage, and that wasn’t his goal.

The cuckoo clock announced that it was 2200 hours as the bird cawed ten times in a row. Klink wondered if Hogan was going to be cooperative tonight as well. Perhaps if he was lucky, they had reached a new understanding in this journey. He admitted to himself that seeing the American act in such a way last time had surprised him.

And since Klink was certainly used to Hogan and his games by now, that was an accomplishment. He waited impatiently, waiting for the younger man to show up. The senior POW officer was normally a very punctual man. That was a trait the two of them shared.

But if there was one thing Wilhelm Klink wasn’t, it was patient. At 2210 hours (10:10pm) he grew annoyed. At 2220 hours (10:20pm), he was downright irritated. By the time it was 2230 (10:30pm), he felt he’d waited long enough. Robert Hogan would not get away with this! He stuffed the hairbrush under the sofa pillow on his side, then stood up. He would fetch his brat himself. Hell, he would drag him across the camp by the ear if he had to!

Normally such a thing would be Schultz’s job, but the German colonel was well aware of how friendly the fat sergeant was with the prisoners of Barracks 2. Seeing as fraternizing with the prisoners was strictly _verboten_ , he really ought to do something about that. Yet Klink honestly didn’t care about it that much, so long as his ‘no escapes’ record remained intact and Schultz remembered what side he was actually **on** in this war.

Still, it also meant that he could count on Hogan managing to distract his Sergeant of the Guard or talk his way out of having to go with him. Either way, this was something Klink would apparently have go do in person.

Just as he was almost to the door, it flew open. Thankfully, the older officer hadn’t been standing behind it, or it would have hit him in the face. In the doorway stood Colonel Hogan, his face flushed. He was out of breath and had clearly run across the camp in a hurry. Jogging up behind the American officer was Sergeant Schultz. Despite being taller and having a longer stride, he evidently hadn’t been able to keep up. The big man was wheezing badly, so he’d be unable to speak until he caught his breath.

Instead, the _Luftwaffe_ sergeant frantically pointed at Hogan, then his watch. He made a surprised face before pointing at Klink’s quarters. Then he pointed at himself, back to his watch, and shook his head. After that, he pointed at Hogan again, back to his watch, back at himself and finally at Klink’s quarters. He shrugged and a helpless look appeared on his face.

Klink pursed his lips as he considered what Schultz appeared to be trying to tell him. Charades wasn’t his preferred game, yethe did well enough at it anyway. And the unspoken message seemed obvious enough.

Hogan had noticed the time and was surprised that it was that late. He had then remembered he needed to come and see Klink at his quarters. He’d told Schultz this, who had replied that it was too late to visit Klink. Hogan had repeated that he was late, then taken off for where they all stood presently. Schultz had followed behind the senior POW officer, helpless to stop him…especially since he couldn’t catch the American! But at least he’d tried. That counted in Klink’s book.

Waving his hand, Klink said, “Yes, yes. I understand…I think,” he added. “I will ask Hogan if I am correct in my assumptions later on. But he has permission to be here tonight, even if he **is** a half hour late,” Klink said sharply. “Dismissed, Schultz!”

As the fat sergeant gave him a salute, Klink returned it before glowering at Hogan. “Get in here, _schnell_. You are letting all the heat out!”

He knew he sonded irritated, but he didn’t appreciate being kept waiting. The American colonel had better have a good reason for this delay!

“And _guten abend_ to you too, Colonel Klink,” said Hogan sarcastically as he entered Klink’s quarters and closed the door. He had recovered his breath enough to be impertinent, it seemed.

“Whatever happened to basic manners?” the younger officer asked as he took off his bomber jacket and hung it up on the coat rack, along with his crush cap.

Raising an eyebrow as he attempted to keep his temper in check, the German colonel snapped, “They seem to have left when you forgot how to tell time, Colonel Hogan!” Then he walked back over to the sofa and sat down.

“I want to know why you think that you can keep me waiting for a full half hour past when you were supposed to be here. I was literally on my way to your Barracks to fetch you. Fortunately for you, you showed up when you did. If you had not, I would have drug you all the way over here from your barracks by your ear, you little brat!” Klink didn’t miss Hogan’s wince at those words. “And believe me, you would not have been happy with the outcome of such a thing.”

Forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t a good idea to antagonize Klink when he was here, Hogan snapped back, “I’m not happy with the results now, _Kommandant!_ ”

It was then that his common sense caught up to his mouth, so he slapped a hand over it. “Oops.”

The senior POW officer held up his hands as he began to walk over to the sofa, his movements deliberately slow. “Okay, hang on. That’s not what I meant to say!” In his mind, his common sense let out a loud sigh. _Rob, do you forget how to use your brain when you’re in here or what?_

But instead of being upset with him, Klink only nodded. A smile crept over his face. Yes, he was angry, but Hogan was giving him every excuse he could possibly need to spank him and more. And as an added incentive, he was digging the proverbial hole deeper and deeper.

“Really? I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Very well. I shall endeavor to do better.”

The smile morphed into a ‘nasty-happy’ grin. “I can simply spank you harder, longer and more often. That is not a problem, I assure you.” Even though Klink had no intention of doing the first two things, the threat successfully did its job.

The American officer paled considerably and shook his head frantically. _“Nein, **nein!** Bitte, bitte **nein!** ”_ he replied desperately. He wasn’t sure why he was pleading in rapid-fire German, unless subconsciously he thought that speaking Klink’s native tongue would gain him some leniency. That had been his intention when he initially greeted the older man, but that had been an active choice. His last words, however, hadn’t been one.

_I’ve been a prisoner of war entirely too long if I’m subconsciously speaking German,_ he thought.

Now, normally Klink spoke in English when he talked to Hogan. After all, the American only knew a few words of German, while he spoke English fluently. Yet he knew the difference between when someone chose to speak a language and when it was done out of reflex.

And Hogan had done it out of reflex, as evidenced by his sudden loss of color. That had thrown the tall German for a loop and caused what happened next. _“Gib mir einen guten Grund, warum ich dir zuhören sollte, wenn du mir gegenüber so respektlos bist.”_

The older man blinked as he realized two things. The first was that he’d replied in rapid-fire German, and the second was that Hogan would have no clue what he’d just said. Deciding he’d better translate what his previous statement had been if he wanted to be understood, he cleared his throat. “I apologize. What I –”

“ _Ich habe keinen guten Grund...zumindest keinen, den **Sie** für einen guten Grund halten würden. Und können wir wieder auf Englisch umsteigen?”_ replied Hogan just as quickly as Klink had. His German accent was excellent, and the American accent had all but disappeared.

Klink **knew** he hadn’t just heard what he thought he heard. The younger man spoke German, and fluently? When had he learned to do that? Did he have a never-ending bag of tricks up his sleeve or what? _“Ja,”_ he replied in shock, forgetting his English momentarily. “Where in the bloody **hell** did you learn fluent German?! I thought you only spoke a few words of it!”

Smirking, Hogan replied, “Language, sir.” His steps had all but stopped now. “I’m a quick study, so let’s just leave it at that.”

He had that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes now that the older colonel was so familiar with. It was the same one that both exasperated him to no end, but also made his life interesting. **Too** interesting at times, if he was being honest with himself. The look on Klink’s face had been priceless, and he wished he’d been able to get a picture of it to look at later!

Noticing that Hogan was literally dragging his feet, Klink lost the little that was left of his patience. “Hurry up and get over here! Delaying will not make things any better for you, but it might make them worse,” he threatened. He wasn’t in the mood for games, seeing as Hogan had already showed up a half hour late.

Which reminded him of a few things he needed to ask. “First of all, why were you late? I had to guess what Sergeant Schultz was trying to tell me via charades!”

Then the Kommandant repeated his earlier conclusion to Schultz’s miming to the American officer, ending with, “Is that correct?”

Hogan nodded. “Yup. I noticed the time and freaked out. I only told Schultz because I didn’t feel like getting shot as I was running across the camp. But I think I set a new personal record running though, because I sprinted the whole way,” he replied thoughtfully.

“I’ve never sprinted that long before. But it’s amazing what you can do when you’re motivated by fear and the thought of pain.” The senior POW officer gave Klink a significant look as he finally reached the sofa, hoping the other officer would get the unspoken meaning behind his words.

However, Klink didn’t seem to be getting it. “Fear? Pain? What are you talking about, Hogan?” he asked.

After a few seconds though, the light bulb clicked on in his head. Hogan’s words made sense now, and they also caused him to smile.

“Never mind, I see what you mean.” The tall German chuckled, amused by the American’s words. “You are very creative with your descriptions. Do you know that, my young troublemaker?”

No matter how often Klink called him a brat or a troublemaker, the nicknames still made Hogan squirm uncomfortably. He shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, dreading what he knew was yet to come.

“Sure, let’s go with that…sir,” he added hastily. He started to sit down, but the older man stopped him.

“Hogan, you know the routine by now. I know you do since you are not a _dummkopf_ , so do not deny it. Remove your uniform trousers and fold them before placing them on the coffee table. Then lie over my lap.” The older colonel usually didn’t do that until the punishment was seconds away from beginning, but he was still annoyed about the earlier delay.

He knew it was important not to permanently damage the younger colonel, which meant he couldn’t spank him until the sun came up for his disrespectful mouth and attitude like he sincerely wanted to. Yet in his mind, a little bit of mind games wouldn’t go amiss. And Klink fully intended to play them tonight.

_Two can play at this sort of thing,_ he thought.

_Wait, what?_ thought Hogan.

This wasn’t how things normally went! Typically, he sat fully clothed on the sofa next to the German officer. At that point, they talked about whatever the problem was. He didn’t normally remove his uniform trousers until it was time for his punishment to begin. So, what was different about tonight?

_Come to think of it, I **still** don’t know why he’s mad now!_ thought Hogan as he looked around the room. He didn’t see any type of implement nearby, not even the ever-present riding crop that Klink always carried with him.

_Maybe he’s only gonna use his hand tonight!_ the American officer thought hopefully. Considering all the other things he’d had thrash his butt so far, Klink’s hand had been the least painful. _Even if he’s got a really good swing and can land a pretty firm swat._

Hoping against hope that he was right, Hogan quickly unbuckled his uniform trousers and removed them. While he wasn’t thrilled about cooperating, it was in his best interest to not change Klink’s mind if those hopes were valid.

Even as he folded them, he still felt the need to protest for some unknown reason. “But why, sir? I mean, this…this isn’t what we…this isn’t our normal routine.”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he managed to get the words out as he placed the folded trousers on the coffee table. Lying over Klink’s lap, he closed his eyes tightly in dreaded anticipation. Hogan didn’t enjoy any of what went on during these ‘discussions’, make no mistake. But if he had to endure it irregardless, he much preferred to hurry up and get his punishment over with than draw it out.

But the first swat never came. After about ten seconds, he dared to crack open one eye. Another ten seconds passed with no swats, so he opened both eyes.

_What the heck?_ He craned his neck to look up at the tall German, who was smirking again. _Crap. That’s **not** a good sign,_ Hogan thought.

“Um, sir?” he asked hesitantly. He wasn’t eager to start his punishment, but he wasn’t sure quite what was going on either.

Klink hadn’t missed the younger man looking around to see which implement had been chosen tonight, and now he was grateful he’d hidden the hairbrush before he got up earlier. It would make the mind games so much more fun for him!

“I am the _Kommandant_ of this camp. I am also the one who is in charge here. Therefore, I decide what the routine is, and when it will change,” he replied simply as Hogan placed himself over his lap.

The older officer hadn’t swatted his troublemaker yet on purpose, despite really wanting to. The element of surprise was important for those mind games, and he didn’t want to lose it yet.

“Yes, Colonel Hogan?” he asked with false sweetness. “You had a question?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of,” Hogan admitted sheepishly as he turned his head away. “I mean, I’m here and…and all.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I…I was…aren’t you going to –”

But the American couldn’t even ask the question as his cheeks burned in shame. Oh, he **so** wasn’t a happy camper right now.

_Either hurry up and punish me or let me go back to my barracks,_ he grumbled internally.

“Do not fret, my dear Hogan,” said the older man. “We will get to it soon. Do not worry.”

That said, he yanked down Hogan’s briefs rather quickly. Klink was thoroughly enjoying the other colonel’s clear nervousness at what was yet to come, as well as his embarrassment at feeling he had to **ask** for his spanking. Beyond a doubt, payback was a sweet thing indeed!

“If you think that you can just pull this kind of stunt and keep me waiting on top of everything else, you are dead wrong,” he added.

He was pleased to note that his senior POW officer’s bottom had completely healed from the last time. That was a good thing for two reasons. The first one was that it meant that he hadn’t done any permanent damage to Hogan, and the second one meant he was able to spank him more for his mischief tonight. Then he ran an elegant hand over the soft skin of the buttcheeks, feeling the muscles instinctively clench under his slender fingers.

“How about you start by telling me why you were so late?” Klink suggested. “You are normally very punctual.”

In addition, the tall German absentmindedly ran one finger in a small circle on the right buttcheek every so often. It wasn’t consistent, but the reoccurring reminder that he could begin the spanking at any time was unmistakable.

“I was breaking up an argument between Newkirk and LeBeau,” replied Hogan promptly, unwilling to further anger his disciplinarian. “Usually Kinch would handle that for me since he’s more level-headed than I am, but in this case he was involved in the argument. He took LeBeau’s side and Carter took Newkirk’s.”

While Hogan didn’t know what kind of game Klink was playing tonight, he wasn’t amused by it either way. And while it was sad that he just wanted his punishment to start already so that it would be over sooner, that was how he felt.

_That’s because you’re losing it, Rob!_ yelled his common sense. He couldn’t deny that he liked the emotional release he always experienced afterwards, but the path to get there wasn’t an easy one to walk.

Nodding, Klink replied, “Is that so? Well, your men do have a habit of getting themselves into sticky situations, it seems. Just like their commanding officer,” he added. “So, what was this argument about?” he asked.

“It started out as the usual one,” said Hogan. “Newkirk instigated it by insulting French cooking. That wouldn’t have been so bad overall if that’d been all he said, because those two are always dissing the preferred foods of each other’s country. It’s a long-standing sore point between them, so I’m used to hearing it.”

He sighed as he continued on. “But then he insulted France in general and the French’s ability to use any sort of weapon in battle. Needless to say, LeBeau didn’t take it well.” The younger colonel also couldn’t help but tense up again as the slender finger continued to draw a small circle on his right buttcheek at random. “The ‘English cuisine is better than French cuisine’ argument might be an old and ongoing one between my two corporals, but I still don’t know **what **got into Newkirk tonight.”

What was taking Klink so long to begin his punishment, anyway? It was starting to really bother him. “I can even see why Carter might have jumped into it since him and Newkirk are best friends, but Kinch is my second-in-command and never gets involved in arguments. He’s the most levelheaded guy I know!”

Why was he even telling Klink all this anyway? _Well, he **did** say you could talk to him if you needed to,_ whispered that annoying voice otherwise known as his conscience. _He’s giving you a change to vent, so don’t complain about it._

“Anyway, I didn’t want the argument to turn physical. Therefore, it took me longer than I expected to solve it.” Hogan swallowed hard at what he was about to say next, since he had his pride. Not to mention that it galled him to have to apologize to Klink when he knew the older man would be lighting his tail on fire shortly.

“I…I apologize for being late, sir,” the American officer said stiffly. “I lost track of time, as I said before. I didn’t mean to insult you in any way.”

The German officer was happy about several things in that moment. The first was that his mind games appeared to be working, which he made a mental note of to remember for later. The second was that Hogan felt that he could open up to him, which was a good thing. A stressed out senior POW officer was something he didn’t need, since such things usually resulted in mass escapes. Last but not least, he was pleased at the apology for his tardiness that the younger colonel offered willingly. He might not have been happy about it, but he did it of his own accord. In the end, that’s what counted.

“I see. How did you solve it?” Klink inquired. The French were notorious for being a very patriotic people, so any insult to their heritage usually ended in an altercation.

“I pointed out that the world needs different types of food, since variety is the spice of life,” replied the American colonel. “Not only does certain food only grow in certain parts of the world, but not everyone likes the same thing.”

Hogan just shook his head at the immaturity his men sometimes displayed. “For example, you Germans have a thing for sauerkraut and sauerbraten. In the United States, it’s not a popular dish. The favorite food back home is generally a well-done steak with some French fries on the side. And besides that, everyone likes different things.”

His senior POW officer looked particularly satisfied with his cleverness as he spoke. “Finally, I told them that I’d toss them all in the cooler for a few days **personally** if they didn’t knock it off.”

_A well-done steak? Disgusting. Meat should always have at least **some** pink to it, _thought Klink. He blinked for a second, only to chuckle at Hogan’s final words. “You did **not** say that to your own men! Er…did you?” _What is this war coming to?_

“I sure did,” confirmed Hogan with a grin. “I told them that if I asked you for permission, I was positive that you wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re always throwing one of them in the cooler for some reason or the other.”

With a frown, the younger man added, “Well…not recently, I guess,” as he recalled exactly why he was here at the moment. “And I told all of them that usually one of them ends up there anyway when some of your brass visits Stalag 13, because it makes you look good.”

Hogan looked up at Klink again and gave him a cheeky grin. “Your comrades from Berlin spend more time here than they do on the battlefield. No wonder you’re losing the war,” he finished with a laugh, his current predicament temporarily forgotten.

Klink clenched one fist and swung his arm. “ _Mmmmpf!_ Insolent troublemaker!” He stopped drawing a circle on his brat’s buttcheek, opting instead to lightly drum his fingers on them. “Tell me Hogan, do you have any clue why you are here? Or were you too busy ignoring me in my office earlier?”

He wondered what the American would say, since it had been clear he’d tuned the German colonel out completely at some point. The question was, had he heard any of what he’d been told before that point in time? _Maybe I can make him guess why he is here! It would be fun to watch him squirm a little,_ said the evil part of him. Frankly, Klink decided he agreed with that evil part of him right now.

_Oh boy._ This was Hogan had been dreading all day. He’d completely tuned the older man out from the moment that he’d sat down in the _Kommandtur_ earlier, so as a result he didn’t have a clue why he was here. The messed up part was that he really was clueless, it wasn’t an act this time. And how was he supposed to answer that question with no context clues? Plus, he could feel the light drumming on his buttcheek, which was distracting.

“I grow tired of waiting, Hogan,” said Klink impatiently. “And I do not have all night.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** His hand struck the bare bottom in front of him three times in quick succession. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Might I remind you that **you** were the one who was late, after all?”

“Ow, ow! Hey, I already explained that,” complained Hogan. “They were about to get into a physical argument, and I had to break it up!” What was he supposed to say? He could think quickly off the cuff, but not when being spanked! Besides, he didn’t know what Klink wanted to hear or what exactly he was asking about. If he said something that Klink didn’t know about yet, he’d give the _Kommandant_ more ammo to punish him.

On the other hand, if he confessed that he thought it was because of the stolen ingredients, that could end badly too. If Klink didn’t recall the incident, Hogan would be reminding the German of it…which would lead to a spanking. And if Klink **did** recall it, it would also lead to a spanking. _Well, crap. What to do, what to do?_ Hogan thought as his mind raced.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Inform your men that they can argue on their own time,” replied Klink.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Not mine. And I am still waiting for your answer,” the older man added. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Damn, was this how the German officer was going to play it now? Recalling the last time he’d been here and pushed it too far, the American colonel wasn’t planning on pushing it again. Yet when he considered his lack of options, he supposed there was no harm in telling the truth for a change.

If nothing else, Klink could get mad about it, spank him for it and it’d be over with. There wouldn’t be any more waiting nervously on edge for that fateful call to Klink’s office. “Ow, ow! Because of the incident with LeBeau and the ingredients?” Hogan offered uncertainly.

The spanking stopped. “Are you asking me or telling me, Hogan?” Klink inquired. “Because if you are asking me, that would mean that you completely ignored me in my office earlier. Yet if you are telling me, then that means you admit to being in trouble yet again due to one of your men. So, which one is it?” Klink had an evil smile on his face. _Let him wiggle out of that one!_

Even though he wasn’t looking at him, Hogan could hear the evil smile in Klink’s tone and groaned. Either he’d lost his touch or Klink was quickly learning from him how to be devious. Either way, it wasn’t good. “I’m…uh, well you see…” He cleared his throat, trying to think how best to phrase this so it would end in the least painful way possible.

Getting irritated again, Klink grew tired of the games for the moment. He reached under the pillow and found the hairbrush. Making sure that he had a firm grip on the handle, he gave Hogan a single swat with it. Not as hard as he would later on, but enough to make it count. **SMACK!** “I am waiting.”

Hogan completely froze as he both heard the smacking sound and felt the swat. Whatever that thing was that had just smacked him, it felt heavy and kind of thuddy. A second later, he felt the first wave of pain ripple through his buttcheek. It wasn’t terribly bad, as it was equivalent to about ten hits of the riding crop. Yet it felt different, somehow. “OW! What was that?” he exclaimed as he tried to turn his head to see it, only to be blocked by Klink. “That seriously stung.”

“This time, you have to guess,” came the unexpected reply. “And no looking unless you want me to add extra swats to your spanking. I abhor cheaters.” He gave his senior POW officer another swat. **SMACK!**

“By the way, you still have not answered my question.” **SMACK!** The younger man currently over his lap would feel his bottom burning soon enough, though. That was something Klink could guarantee!

“Ow, OW!” was the reply as Hogan felt the…whatever it was…smack his butt twice more. He shook his head in disbelief at the answer he got to his question. Klink wanted him to **guess** what was being using to spank him? The older man knew very well that Hogan had never been spanked a day in his life until he arrived at Stalag 13, because they’d discussed it at one point.

So how in the world was he possibly going to figure this out? **SMACK! SMACK!** “OW, OWW!” He scrambled to gather his thoughts as his poor bottom began to notice the pain a lot more. The mysterious implement being used made it hurt a lot quicker than the other things he’d been ‘treated to’. **SMACK! SMACK!** “Wait, wait, just hang on a minute. I can’t think!” he said hastily.

Thankfully, the spanking stopped again. However instead of swatting the American with it, the German officer gently used the back of the hairbrush to glide over the slightly pink skin. “Answer my question first, figure out what the implement is second,” Klink said sharply. “And do hurry it up.”

Klink paused for a minute as he added, “Yet that is strange, since you seemed able to think well enough when I spanked you with the belt. Is that what you would prefer instead?”

Okay, now he had a priority order for answering Klink’s questions. He could do this! “In answer to your original question, I was telling you,” he began to say. Hogan could feel the mysterious thing gliding over the skin of his buttcheek, as if deciding where to strike next. “I was telling you I thought I was here about the missing ingredients incident,” he hastily finished.

Hogan also observed that whatever the newest thing to assault his behind was, it was smooth. But upon hearing the last question, he shook his head frantically. “No, **no!** No, I do **not** want the belt in any shape, form or fashion!” he confirmed hastily. From both his words and his tone of voice, there was no possible way the older man could’ve misinterpreted that declaration.

“Very good, Hogan,” said Klink in an encouraging voice. “Now, can you guess what I am using to spank your bare bottom like a naughty child?” He was thoroughly enjoying himself as he watched Hogan visibly squirm. He wasn’t sadistic by any means, but this he felt was justified for both ignoring him and making him wait unnecessarily.

If nothing else, Hogan could have asked Schultz or any other guard around to deliver a message to him, Klink, that he’d had an unavoidable delay. The German colonel knew Schultz definitely would have done it, and so would Langenscheidt. He’d seen the two guards interact with the prisoners often enough in a friendly way to know that much. “Are you sure about that? It did seem to work wonders on you and for you,” he taunted.

“Are you kidding me?” demanded Hogan, even as he blushed. “You know my parents never sp…punished,” he amended quickly, “me like this. How am I supposed to even try and guess what that horrid thing is?” His cheeks flushed even redder as he heard the last sentence that the older officer had spoken.

“I’m one hundred percent **positive** that I never want to see or feel a belt punishing me ever again. So yes, I’m very sure.”

Then he groaned and shook his head again. “You’re a terrible, wicked man, Colonel Klink. You’re playing games with me, and I don’t like it,” he finished with a huff and a pout.

Klink smirked, not missing his wayward brat’s mortification. “You are very clever, my little troublemaker. You can figure it out, I am sure.”

**SMACK! SMACK!** The _Kommandant_ smacked the unruly American twice more with the hairbrush, still keeping the swats light. “And flattery will get you nowhere, my dear Hogan.” **SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWW, OWW!” replied the American colonel as the swats landed. Whatever this thing was, it was fairly small and smooth. Still, that wasn’t overly helpful. A lot of things were fairly small and smooth. Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t small at all. Maybe it was big and only part of it was being used. The possibilities were almost endless. He honestly didn’t know what it could be, which he hated to admit.

But what else was he supposed to do, exactly? Play the guessing game via spanking until he inevitably started crying at the end of it? And then possibly get another spanking a different day for not being able to guess the nature of the mysterious item correctly? He’d pass on that, thank you very much!

“ _Kommandant,_ I honestly don’t know what that thing is. Just please tell me,” Hogan said in exasperation. The pain in his butt wasn’t anywhere near the breaking point yet, but he definitely could feel the swats he’d gotten so far.

“Whatever it is though, it’s effective,” he remarked. Groaning, he covered his mouth with one hand, reaching out the other as if to snatch the words out of mid-air and put them back. _Please tell me I only thought that last sentence and didn’t actually say it out loud. I don’t need to give Klink any kind of encouragement!_ he thought.

The answering chuckle informed him otherwise, though, so Hogan moved his hands. Now they covered his eyes instead, bringing with them blessed darkness. _What kind of moron gives his disciplinarian ideas? Rob, you’re an idiot!_ screamed his common sense.

On his end, the German colonel was decidedly amused with the brat lying over his lap. Hogan was already complaining, and Klink hadn’t really even started spanking him yet! Watching the younger man try fruitlessly to take back something that was clearly only meant to be a passing thought, he took pity on his soon-to-be-sore charge. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he deadpanned.

Then he held the hairbrush so that Hogan could see it. “The chosen item being used tonight that ought to keep you standing up for a few days is a wooden hairbrush. It is made of a cherrywood and oak blend. And I intend to turn your bottom the same shade of red as this hairbrush.”

He twirled it in his hand as he talked. “It was my grandmother’s, and it is a family heirloom,” Klink said proudly.

Hogan considered the item he was looking at. _A hairbrush?_ Well, that explained the smooth feel, the thud, and the perceived size. And it wasn’t bigger than a breadbox! Then he took a good look at the dark red color and sighed as pitifully as he could possibly manage.

“Sir, might I suggest that you save both of us some time by just shooting me now? It’d be a lot easier and less painful for me. After all, a bullet only hurts for a split second.” Okay, so he was being over-dramatic. But still, that thing really packed a wallop!

“Where would be the fun in that?” remarked Klink with a sigh. “Really, you are such a ham, Hogan! The hairbrush is not that bad once you get used to it. And I should know,” he added. “As I already stated, it is a family heirloom.”

“But I don’t **want** to get used to it!” said his troublemaker indignantly. “I’d prefer to never be where I’m at right now ever again!”

Hogan fell silent abruptly as something occurred to him. “You’ve been punished with it before, haven’t you?” he asked. “As a kid, I mean.”

Nodding, Klink replied in the affirmative. “Yes, which is how I know it will not permanently damage you in any way. But it **will** thoroughly toast your behind, and you may want to remain standing up for a few days until the pain fades away. Such is your punishment since **your** corporal decided to steal rare ingredients. The same ingredients that were to be used in making a special dish for a visiting general!” he finished.

“Great, just great. That’s such wonderful news,” said Hogan sarcastically. “I don’t even know why you still kept it, heirloom or not. It’s not like you have much hair left!”

Yeah, he wasn’t helping his case any. But to be fair, his case looked pretty bleak already. “Who cares if he’s a general or *Two-Ton Hermann himself? You’ve got more brass visiting you here than Hitler himself does in Berlin!”

Then Hogan sighed and added, “And what makes you think it was any of the prisoners that stole them at all, not to mention LeBeau specifically? Maybe it was one of your guards! You know as well as I do that Schultz will eat anything.” In his mind, he apologized to the fat sergeant for even tossing his name into this.

Klink scowled at the insult, giving the brat over his lap a firm swat on his butt in response. **SMACK!** “Hogan, I am warning you now…I am not in the mood for your insolence or your American sense of humor tonight. That is your first and only warning.”

The mere mention of Hermann Göring made him shiver. While Göring wasn’t inherently evil like Himmler, he still wasn’t someone to trifle with. “I will thank you to not refer to _Reichsmarshall_ Göring in that manner, by the way. I do not insult Churchill or Roosevelt like that,” Klink pointed out reasonably.

“And while what you say about Schultz is true, I know it was not him or any of my guards. General Burkhalter gave strict instructions to all of them, stating if they so much as looked at those tomatoes they would have a one-way ticket to the Russian Front. And I did not touch them either. To be fair though, it was mostly because of those same orders,” Klink muttered.

“But I know the cockroach is your cook, because when Sergeant Carter tried to cook a meal before, he almost poisoned you and me!” He paused as he considered his next words. “Besides that, Corporal LeBeau has cooked for me when I have had visitors, remember? You have been there on numerous occasions, and LeBeau cooked the meals each time except for the aforementioned disaster. You ate with us, so you have tasted his cooking. So you would be a fool if you did not make him the one in charge of meals.”

Klink shook a slender finger as he finished his explanation, anger appearing again on his face. “By the way, that is exactly the problem…the general’s association with Hitler!”

Hogan decided not to argue with any of the other points Klink made, mostly because they were true. Instead, he focused his energy and wit on the last one. “OW! Okay look, if that general’s association with Hitler is a problem, then there’s a bigger issue at hand then that. I hate to tell you this, sir, but almost everyone in Germany’s got the same problem. And the _Wehrmacht_ is a big part of it,” he added thoughtfully.

“You guys all fight for that would-be painter while he hides and does whatever would-be painters do.” He grinned as something occurred to him.

“Hey, you think if the Allies could somehow get Hitler admitted to that art school he wanted to study at, he’d call off the war and surrender?” Hogan asked brightly. “Then we could all go home!”

“Hogan, the problem is not that he supports the regime; the problem is that he is a personal friend of the _Führer_ as well as General Burkhalter!” Klink snapped. “That man is very powerful, not someone you can just run roughshod over.”

As the American made his not-so-funny joke, Klink sighed. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “I warned you, Hogan. How many times do I have to teach you this lesson?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Excuse me, but – OWW! – it was an – OWW! – honest question! You don’t need to get all huffy about it,” griped the American officer. “It’s not – OWW! – my fault – OWW! – that he can’t – OWW! – pick a career he’s good at! OWW!”

“His chosen career works perfectly fine for him, thank you,” replied Klink wryly.

Just how thick-headed was Hogan? For a brat that was currently bare bottomed over his lap, he sure had a smart mouth!

“Uh-huh…and that’s why the Russian Front is coming to you, right? I didn’t know they made deliveries,” quipped his witty troublemaker.

Klink didn’t bother to answer the snarky remark as he both picked up the speed of the swats and increased the force of them. Now he would truly begin Hogan’s spanking.

**_ The not-so-fun main event begins… _ **

There was about five minutes of nothing but the sound of wooden hairbrush smacking bare flesh. The only sound other than the ongoing spanking were Hogan’s groans and cries of pain.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWIE!” cried Hogan. _Damn, that hairbrush really hurts!_

Not that any of this was particularly pleasant, mind you, but there were apparently varying degrees of pain that different things caused. Again, he was grateful his parents had never spanked him when he was growing up.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWWIE!” Although right now, he bitterly wished they had! Wait, what was he thinking? This wasn’t the least bit enjoyable! _But wait, don’t muscles get used to exercising if you use them often enough?_ reasoned his inner voice. _Maybe buttcheeks are the same way…if you get spanked often enough, it doesn’t hurt so bad?_ If that was the case, he was sure to have iron buttocks by the end of the war if this kept up!

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWWW!” was Hogan’s only response to the current fire beginning to be lit in his rear end.

The swats were hard and with no mercy. There was also maybe three seconds in between swats; just long enough for Klink’s hand to quickly lift the brush and bring it back down again to smack his butt. Definitely not enough time for Hogan to brace for the next blow or tense his muscles. Overall, there wasn’t enough time to do anything except lie there and simply take it.

Oh, and kick his legs, of course. He wasn’t quite sure why he even bothered kicking, since Klink just pinned his legs anyway as he continued on. And he’d already discovered twice now that having his legs pinned only made things worse. It seemed to be an instinctive reflex to do so, however, and one Hogan dearly wished he could curb.

Well, maybe there was one thing he could do. The last time he’d tried to roll off Klink’s lap, his legs hadn’t been pinned. That meant they could get in the way or get tangled underneath him, right? Surely having one’s legs tangled would slow them down, or that was the logical assumption anyway. But now both of them were firmly locked into place in between the German officer’s crossed ankles, which meant that they couldn’t get tangled.

And said grip was only on his calves. But his thighs were still free! If he could twist his hips and move his thighs at the same time, in the same direction, Hogan could throw himself onto the ground and out of the way. That would get him out of that blasted hairbrush’s range.

Okay, so he’d land on his rapidly-becoming-sore butt. However, once he was down there, he could use his hands to help pull his lower legs free. Hogan knew he was strong, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him. It wasn’t a prefect plan by any means, but some plan was better than no plan. Unlike the last time he’d been in this position, he’d thought this over. He’d also studied the room well when he first got here, which was while he’d been walking so slowly towards the sofa.

And there was no time like the present, before the pain in his behind started to affect his ability to reason things out. He counted to three in his head before putting his plan into action. Which actually worked!

Well, sort of. He had successfully gotten away, but the movement hadn’t worked exactly the way he’d expected it to. That meant instead on landing square on his butt in a sitting up position, he hit the ground and sort of…bounced. His head hit the ground with an audible ‘thunk’ as his body slammed into the floor. The American officer let out a low groan as he sat up. Or attempted to, anyway. His legs were still pinned somehow, which made his movements awkward.

“Oww.” _Damn, Klink must have really strong leg muscles to still have my legs pinned!_ thought Hogan.

“Robert! Are you okay?” gasped a shocked Klink as he simultaneously dropped the brush on the couch and released his grip on his troublemaker’s legs. _What just happened?_ One minute Hogan was over his lap, yet the next minute he was on the ground!

“What did you manage to do now?” He held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he demanded to know, worry evident in his voice. He rose and pulled the younger colonel up off of the floor at the same time, using one fluid movement. If his brat had somehow given himself a concussion, Klink would feel terrible.

“I’m fine, sir. And you’re holding up three fingers,” said Hogan. If nothing else, surely he’d at least accomplished one goal…getting out of his punishment! That alone made the whole thing worth it to him. “Other than gravely miscalculating my trajectory, I didn’t manage to do anything,” replied his stubborn brat with a grimace.

The tall German was relieved to hear that Hogan was okay, even as the other officer’s last sentence sunk in. _Gravely miscalculating his…oh, he has done it now!_ Klink thought angerly. _He tried to escape from me! That little…mmmmpf!_

Still, Klink kept this realization to himself as he let his troublemaker think that he was done being spanked for tonight. It wouldn’t do to give the game away after all, and he needed the element of surprise. “You are certain that you are okay? How is your bottom?” he inquired.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Hogan gave his butt a few rubs to get rid of the sting, which made him wince when he touched it. “It hurts a lot, but I’ll live,” he replied somewhat cheerfully. He gave Klink a half-smile, glad the whole event was over for tonight. Or so he thought, until he was proven wrong.

“Good,” was the clipped response he got from Klink. The serious tone of voice was the only warning Hogan got, and it made the alarm bells in his head start to ring. As it was, the warning didn’t come fast enough for him to do anything about it before he suddenly felt himself moving again.

_No, no, no!_ he thought as the smile dropped off of his face. _This isn’t the goal…this is the exact **opposite** of the goal!_ When had Klink pulled him back over his lap? For that matter, when had Klink even sat back down? As before, his legs were pinned firmly. On top of that, Klink’s non-spanking arm held him firmly in place by his waist. In this position, Hogan couldn’t escape again even if he’d tried.

For an older man, Klink was surprisingly quick. _Something you already knew from before and should have remembered, Rob!_ he admonished himself. Clearly his ability to reason had already been affected when he made that stupid plan. Hindsight was, after all, 20/20.

“I am very glad to hear that, because I am not done with you yet. And you, Hogan, just made everything much worse.” He picked up the hairbrush again, his eyes blazing with blue fire from his anger. “Are you insane? You could have been seriously hurt!”

_Oh, shit,_ thought Hogan as he looked up at the understandably angry German colonel. Klink looked as mad as he had the day he’d threatened to call up Major Hochstetter and hand him over to the Gestapo. And he knew from prior experience that look didn’t bode well for him. Generally, Klink was mostly all talk and idle threats.

Yeah, he’d tossed Hogan’s men in the cooler a few times. But he always let them out earlier then he said he would. Hell, he’d even tossed Hogan himself in there once! Although to be fair, the American had goaded Klink into it. That way, he’d have an alibi for his mission that day. But still, the German’s willingness to do such a thing at all should have been a clue to Hogan that his high rank didn’t make him invincible.

He’d managed to get away somewhat successfully, and for what? To end right back up where he started, only now the situation had taken a definite wrong turn. All in all, there wasn’t a positive outcome to this. When Klink picked up the hairbrush again, the younger man’s stomach twisted into hard knots.

The very sight made him gulp, because he knew for a fact what was imminent and how much it would hurt. The senior POW officer debated if he needed to throw up from the knots in his stomach before deciding that wasn’t the best idea. He could control the urge, since he didn’t need to antagonize Klink any more tonight.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to make it worse for myself, I promise! I swear I’ll be good! Sir, **please** don’t spank me anymore! Please!” Hogan’s voice sounded like a little kid as he begged for leniency, but he didn’t especially care right now. He had far bigger problems at the moment. The hairbrush had caused enough sting from the swats he’d already received. So he did **not,** under any circumstances, want to know what ‘worse’ felt like!

Not that his pleading did any good, as the words fell on deaf ears. Klink was now royally pissed off. How dare his troublemaker try a stunt like that? Hogan could have given himself a head injury, and those could be fatal if he’d hit the wrong spot! In addition to that, the camp only had a medic. And medics weren’t trained to handle something that severe, not the way a doctor was.

“Oh, I am certain that you **are** very, very sorry. And you will be even sorrier when I am through with you!” threatened Klink. With that said, he began to spank Hogan again.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“If you think we are done for tonight, you are wrong. In fact, you have just earned yourself extra time over my lap!” he yelled furiously.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!” Hogan yowled. His attempted escape had been a complete disaster, and now he’d only made things worse. The fire in his bottom had started to fade somewhat from the few rubs he’d given it before, but it was quickly being reignited. Ironically, something Klink often said popped into his head. He wasn’t sure why he was recalling this particular quote, unless he considered that somehow it applied here.

_“*There has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13!”_ Everyone here, from the prisoners to the guards, had heard the German officer say that often enough. Even Hochstetter had responded, _“*Please, do not start that again.”_ in an annoyed tone on one such occasion.

It was then his voice of reason decided to show itself. _Yeah, but that means nobody’s ever ‘officially’ escaped from the camp. It doesn’t apply to Klink himself!_ it said in a snarky tone. _Oh, shut up! Where were you five minutes ago?_ demanded his common sense. And there went his inner monologue again, which was slightly concerning. Hogan had never considered himself crazy, but his recent habit of arguing with himself was starting to cast doubts in that regard.

“I hope you have realized by now, my wayward troublemaker, that you are going to have an extremely sore bottom when I am through with you. Just for that silly attempt to get out of your punishment, I am going to spank the living daylights out of you tonight until you learn your lesson,” the older colonel stated firmly.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You could have gotten badly hurt, and that is why. One would have to be completely mad to do such a thing!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

As he continued to punish his brat, the _Kommandant_ thought he should clear up something else as well. “Yet you should know that even attempting such a stunt does not make me happy either.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“In addition to everything else, I will also make sure you **never, ever,** sit down again if you persist in your half-witted attempts to escape your spankings.” He made sure he stressed the words ‘never, ever’ as he continued on.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“*This is foolish!” he exclaimed.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” Klink was seriously starting to wonder about that. He could understand that a spanking was painful, but to do something like what Hogan had just done was idiotic at best.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You know how I feel about that idea!”The tall German would teach Hogan discipline come hell or high water, he really would.

“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWWWW!” was the American’s only response. The was no ‘beginning to be’ regarding the fire being lit in his rear end. It was fully lit by then. And had Klink just said he’d ‘spank the living daylights’ out of him? He didn’t like the sound of that at all! The bit about ‘never, ever, sitting down again’ didn’t sound too good either, considering that the German had made sure to stress the words ‘never’ and ‘ever’. “OWWWW, OWWWWWIE!”

But Klink was still speaking to him. “I promise you, I will give you a spanking every day until the war ends if need be,” he threatened.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Is that what you need to help you sleep better at night and stay out of trouble?” the older man asked him in frustration.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“A continuously sore bottom?”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Just ask me directly, and I will arrange it for you,” the _Kommandant_ said.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You do not need to test my patience constantly if that is what you need,” Klink added. “I would be happy to accommodate you.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He couldn’t believe how stubborn his young troublemaker could be. He just hoped he was getting through to Hogan.

“OWWWW!” came the sorrowful cry from Hogan’s mouth. He’d better say something, or Klink would get the wrong idea from his silence. His men managed to cause him more than enough spankings in this case. So he sure didn’t need one every night! “OWWW, no! Don’t – OWWW! – do – OWWW! – that! Please! OWWWIE! I don’t want – OWWW! – that! OWWW!”

Why had he ever thought that trying to get away from Klink when the older man was busy lighting his tail on fire had been a good idea? Somehow, it had just now occurred to him that they would simply pick up where they left off. That lack of realization was costing him dearly now!

_Well, duh. What, did you think that if you succeeded, you’d somehow get off scot-free? Geez,_ responded his snarky inner voice.

When it came to these ‘discussions’, Hogan felt like he had become an idiot. That disturbed him greatly. He prided himself on his abilities to both understand a situation and think well off the cuff, yet both of those abilities seemed to all but desert him when he was here.

_Hmmm…a spanking every night for my little brat?_ Now that right there was a brilliant idea! Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Surely a spanking each night before lights out would do wonders to keep Hogan out of trouble, not to mention help him sleep better due to sheer exhaustion.

_And it would cause permanent injury too if I did something this severe to him every day,_ he thought as he gave a disappointed sigh. Well, so much for that. In any event, Klink didn’t stop or slow down the punishment as he continued his lecture.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“If you really have so much trouble holding still over my lap, I can secure you with rope to the bed again. I do not wish to strike you anywhere but your bottom, and you are making that very difficult! “You could have gotten seriously hurt!” Klink yelled.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hogan shook his head, remembering the last time he’d been tied to the bed with rope and why. He’d take his chances over Klink’s lap, thank you very much. “OWWWIE, no! No – OWWW! – rope! OWWW!”

The American’s behind was in absolute agony by now, and the familiar lava he’d come to know and loathe had arrived at the party. “OWWW, OWWIE, OWWWWWIE!” He wasn’t sure how much more he could handle, mostly because wooden implements seemed to sting a whole lot more then leather ones.

Klink shook his head in sheer exasperation. Unfortunately for the younger man over his lap, all of that frustration was being taken out on his rear end. And he wasn’t being gentle about it either, he was landing really hard swats. He was also quite sure that Hogan’s bottom would be sore for quite some time, since the skin was already the dark red of the hairbrush.

He had planned on spanking his senior POW officer a lot gentler than he was currently doing, as he knew that wooden anything did more damage. That is, until Hogan had decided to make his little escape attempt. The fact that he could have given himself a concussion or some other head injury didn’t sit well with the tall German. And as a result, he would make sure his brat didn’t sit well either. Despite everything, he really did care about Hogan.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“You are acting like a naughty child right now. Even more so than you usually do, and naughty children need discipline! Such is the way of the world. Now, lie still and take your spanking like a good boy. Do not fight me on this, troublemaker.”

Klink punctuated every word of his last five sentences with a firm swat to the sit spots of Hogan’s bare bottom.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK!**

“Do you understand me?” he demanded. “You are not allowed to injure yourself on purpose!” he said angerly. He would, of course, make exceptions for an accidental injury. Life had a way of doling those out, especially during wartime.

It was indeed irritating to be punished like a little kid, and even more so to be talked to like one. If that were all that had been going on here, Hogan could deal with that. He could handle a lot of pain. It’d all been part of his training for his mission, along with learning to speak German fluently. What he couldn’t deal with was the affection and worry that was in the German colonel’s tone, even if it were masked by anger or frustration.

Even if Klink didn’t think so, Hogan heard it clear as a bell. And as the older man had said himself, things had mainly gotten worse because he’d almost gotten hurt. Though of course, his attempted escape hadn’t exactly thrilled the _Kommandant_ either.

But as always, it was the hard swats to his sit spots that did him in. He couldn’t even count how many of them he felt land there, but it was still far too many for his liking. Not that he liked any of them, mind you.

With his last burst of energy, he managed to croak out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m soooooorrrrry!”

That being said, the emotional dam burst, and Hogan began sobbing. The volume was reasonably low, but it was still easily heard.

His tears were genuine, and those of a very well-spanked little boy. Like it or not, that was what he felt like after he was spanked. It was also a claim his butt could definitely back up. And by the way, that was something else that irritated him. Hogan could feel the wave of emotions flowing through him, carrying him away like a stick in the ocean. All the tension drained out of him as well, leaving nothing but exhaustion.

**_ Receiving quality aftercare… _ **

As always, the older officer was paying close attention to his wayward charge. Therefore, he knew the exact moment Hogan had broken down emotionally. He dropped the hairbrush on the floor, since he wouldn’t need it any more tonight. Then he let his thoroughly chastised brat cry for a few minutes over his lap, knowing the American needed to let everything he was feeling out.

During this time, Klink rubbed soothing circles on his back as he always did after a punishment. “Robert, it is okay. You are forgiven, so try and calm down.” He looked at the bare behind he’d been disciplining and grimaced. It was bruised all over, just like after he’d been spanked with the belt. That hadn’t been his original intention. His original intention had only been to paint the skin of Hogan’s rear end a dark red.

It seemed that he’d gotten a little carried away, which made him feel awful. Apparently he cared a lot more about his senior POW officer and his welfare – both physical and mental – then he was willing to concede. What he did admit to himself, though, was that he hadn’t increased the strength of his swats until after Hogan had tried to escape from his lap. The fact that he’d very nearly gotten hurt had made the older man’s heart almost stop.

When he’d seen Hogan lying on the ground and heard the low ‘oww’, his mind had already been racing three steps ahead. He’d been trying to remember off the top of his head what barracks Sergeant Wilson, the prisoners’ medic, was in. All he knew for certain was that the American sergeant wasn’t a part of the tight-knit group in Barracks 2.

Also going through his mind at that time were what he could say to get Wilson out of the barracks to offer his commanding officer some assistance without arousing suspicion from the other prisoners. Not to mention how he would explain why Hogan was in his quarters so late and why he was here at all. To top it all off, by that point it had already been quite obvious that he’d been in the middle of being spanked on his bare bottom. There was just no excuse in the world that would explain **that** part away, no matter what he said or did.

Yes, the German colonel could simply demand that Wilson follow him and not ask any questions by throwing his weight around as the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13. He could order him not to talk about whatever he would see the same way. But the camp had a large rumor mill, and he didn’t need any more problems. Hogan and his men caused enough of those already! Luckily, it hadn’t come to that. His sly troublemaker had been unharmed.

Klink glanced down at Hogan’s butt again and shook his head. He would have to put some skin repair lotion on it like last time. The only problem was, said lotion was in his room and the patient in need of it was over his lap on the sofa. Normally he was a thorough sort of person; the type who was always prepared. Yet how did one prepare for something they had never perceived could happen?

No, he would have to get Hogan on his feet, stand up him and lead them to the bedroom. _Or I should say the guest bedroom, since he will be staying the night again,_ thought Klink. He’d been on autopilot, rubbing soothing circles on the younger man’s back as he was lost in thought. And at some point, Hogan had stopped crying as well.

Which was a good thing, since now the tall German could get them to where they needed to be. He would apologize to his troublemaker for getting carried away and explain what had caused him to do so. Then he would put the lotion on Hogan’s thrashed bottom to help ease the pain, and he’d let the American colonel sleep in a soft bed for tonight. Everything would be okay.

“Robert? Robert, are you alright?” asked the German officer gently. “Robert, can you hear me?” There was no response, which wasn’t good.

Klink tried again. “Robert?” Still nothing. The room remained silent as a tomb.

_Mein Gott, did I kill him?_ thought Klink in alarm. If he had, he would be the one to deliver the news personally to Hogan’s men. But he prayed with everything in him that he had not truly killed his senior POW officer. Because damn it all, he **liked** his witty, cheeky yet mouthy at times brat. The very same one who continuously made him smile, by the way. Even when he didn’t want to! No matter what type of mood he was in, the American always seemed to be able to make him forget his problems.

Klink didn’t know if **Hogan** knew he knew, but the tall German was well aware of who his close friends were. They were always around him unless he was in the _Kommandtur_ or in here. So he would tell them what had happened first, and then he would let them decide his fate. And if they decided that they wanted him dead, so be it.

He’d just have take them all out of camp first. Without any of his guards, of course. That way, they’d know it wasn’t some sort of trap. That would also ensure that none of them would face a firing squad for his murder. Then he’d hand whichever of them wanted to do the deed his always-loaded Luger personally, and they could flee with the weapon for protection once he was dead. Even **he** couldn’t argue that a life for a life was an even exchange. And the fact that he knew they hated him would only be a bonus for the mismatched group.

He wasn’t thrilled about his possible date with the Grim Reaper in the future, either. But he would be a hypocrite if he didn’t take responsibility for his actions when he’d been preaching that to his troublemaker this entire time. He liked to think that he was an honorable man. And he also knew if someone had killed a close friend of **his,** he’d be the first one in line calling for their death.

Come to think of it though, he wasn’t a fan of cold-blooded murder. Or even suicide, if he was being completely honest. But if the American colonel was truly dead, he felt that Hogan’s close group of friends should at least have some closure. He owed them that much, minimally. _And really, I am in the wrong military if I do not believe in cold-blooded murder!_

Pushing those morbid thoughts out of his head, he focused on the situation at hand. First things first. Before he went and did anything stupid, he needed to find out if Hogan still lived. And yes, he already knew that if he got a confirmation that his brat no longer lived, his time left on this planet would be short indeed.

Though he honestly didn’t want to know for sure, he had to find out. So he touched the American officer’s back hesitantly, fully prepared for the worse-case scenario. And when he felt Hogan’s back muscles moving, he sighed in relief. He was breathing!

That was a good sign, as it meant his death could be avoided for now. Yet there was another one brewing, and that was the question of why he wasn’t responding to his name. As he pondered the strange scenario, he heard a small sound.

But what the heck was it? It was coming from Hogan, and…Klink groaned as it dawned on him. Somehow, Hogan had fallen asleep! That sound he had heard was a snore.

“Only Robert Hogan could manage to exhaust himself so utterly during a spanking that he falls asleep despite being in terrible pain…while still over my lap!” he muttered to himself, glad that there wasn’t something seriously wrong with the American. “Well, at least I am apparently very comfortable.” _What am I going to do with him? Even asleep, Hogan manages to vex me!_

Now he just had to figure out how to get the younger man standing on his feet, so that Klink himself could stand up. Hogan’s rear end really needed some of that skin repair lotion, which wasn’t going to happen so long as they remained here. And he could hardly ask anyone else to help him, which meant that this was a solo mission.

Even if it hadn’t been almost midnight, it would raise far too many questions that he couldn’t answer. And the tall German had no desire to drag Hogan’s name through the mud even if he did want to answer them. But he could do this. Well…he hoped he could, anyway.

Klink considered the options available to him, not particularly liking either one. The first option was to simply roll Hogan off of his lap, which wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t want to risk damaging the skin on Hogan’s buttocks any further, and simply hitting the floor with all of the American’s weight adding to it could very well do so. Especially since right now, he was essentially dead weight.

The second option was to sit the American up on the couch until Klink could get himself up, then sort of sleepwalk him to the guest bedroom. The German didn’t like this idea either, since it involved having the younger man sit on a very sore bottom. Even if it **was** only temporarily, that would still hurt like a bitch when his troublemaker woke up. But overall, it was easier to do, and the drop would be more of a controlled one.

His decision made, Klink got his hands under Hogan’s chest and pushed upward. After he had his brat lifted up enough to do so, he moved his hands so that one was supporting the younger man’s back and one was guiding his lower half. As the American officer was placed into a sitting position, the older man was finally able to stand up. And now that he was standing, he was able to carefully pull the senior POW officer up to a standing position.

Remarkably, Hogan was still snoring. “Incredible,” muttered Klink. “What a time to be a sound sleeper!” Still, he had managed to solve two problems: Hogan was off his lap and they were both standing up. Now he just had to sleepwalk Hogan to the guest bedroom.

Keeping on hand on the other colonel’s shoulder, Klink snatched up the folded brown uniform trousers. He tucked them inside his uniform jacket, the form-fitting material of it coming in handy for once since it held the trousers in place securely. Slowly but surely, he was able to guide Hogan to the guest bedroom. He maneuvered him so that Hogan lay on his stomach, with his head turned to the side so he wouldn’t suffocate. His head was on the pillows, yet Klink debated if he wanted to cover him with the blanket.

On one hand, it was cold and getting sick was a real possibility. On the other hand, he didn’t want the lotion to get on the blankets. It would be wasteful, and besides such things were getting harder to come by as the war raged on. Finally, he decided that blankets could be washed if need be. It was far easier to wash a blanket than to get some penicillin to cure an illness, after all. So after removing the younger man’s shoes, the German officer draped the blanket over him. Then he set the still-folded uniform trousers on the dresser and hurried to get the lotion, a blanket, and some rope.

After he grabbed what he was after in his room, he hurried back to the guest bedroom. He’d kicked off his boots and taken off his uniform in his room while he was there. Then he’d quickly put on his nightgown, his blue bathrobe with the gold eagle emblem since it was warmer, and his slippers. Klink already figured that he’d be sleeping in the chair in the guest bedroom unless Hogan woke up on his own before morning.

Not that he thought there was actually anything wrong with the younger colonel, mind you. He was probably just very tired. But he’d been punished with the belt before, which left similar marks to what Hogan sported now. And even then, he hadn’t passed out this quickly. Klink didn’t like this turn of events at all, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until his troublemaker woke up.

These were the thoughts that went through his head as he gently rubbed the skin repair lotion on the bruised skin. Since Hogan was still asleep, Klink was able to rub it all the way in without causing him immense pain. He was happy about that, because it meant the skin would heal faster.

After snapping the lid shut, he washed his hands and sat in the chair, putting the blanket he’d brought with him over his lap. Then he tied Hogan’s right wrist to his left one, turned on the light and read a book while he waited. In this manner, Klink would know if his troublemaker tried to roll over, and he would be able to stop it.

**_ 0130 hours, the guest bedroom in Klink’s quarters… _ **

As the cuckoo clock read 0130 hours (1:30am), Klink felt a tug on his wrist. Then another, followed by a curse. Without really thinking about it, he replied, “Do not roll over! And watch your language, Robert.”

A part of the _Kommandant_ was relieved as he set down the book he’d been reading. Then he eyed the clearly confused Hogan. “Ah, welcome back to reality, Robert. I trust I was comfortable enough for you then?” he asked dryly.

“What are you talking about, Colonel Klink?” asked the American officer irritably, the use of his first name escaping his notice. He was tired, cranky and his body ached all over. Needless to say, he wasn’t in the mood for riddles! “What time is it? Why are our wrists tied together? Why do I hurt all over? Why are you in a bathrobe instead of clothes? And where am I?” He looked around him warily. “This isn’t my bunk. It’s not even Barracks 2. What gives?” He knew he hadn’t been drinking, mostly because he rarely drank. And there wasn’t any alcohol in Barracks 2 right now anyway.

Klink had to bite back a smile. His brat sounded exactly like a pertinent child who didn’t want to get up for school! “First of all, it is now 0130 hours. As to your other questions, let me think,” he replied, pretending to mull Hogan’s questions over.

“Oh yes, I remember now. You were supposed to be here last night at 2200 hours for a ‘discussion’ regarding the cockroach and his ingredients theft, along with the accompanying punishment. Yet you were a half hour late because you had to break up some argument amongst your men that ‘would have gotten physical’,” Klink began.

He made air quotes with his fingers. “As a result, you admitted to breaking a new sprinting record running across the camp to get here. Oh, and you dragged Sergeant Schultz with you as well so you would not get shot for being outside at night,” the older officer said.

Klink could see Hogan’s eyes widening at these revelations, yet he continued on. “I am in my bathrobe and nightclothes because it is late and I am tired. As to where you are, you are in the guest bedroom in my quarters. You hurt all over since in the middle of your hairbrush spanking, you decided it would be a good idea to throw yourself off of my lap despite your legs being pinned by me previously. But you landed incorrectly and hit your head on the floor with a rather loud ‘thunk’ sound. I am sure that accounts for most of the pain you are feeling.”

The American opened his mouth to speak, but Klink held up a hand. “One moment. I am not finished. When you did that, you made me unbelievably upset at you for almost hurting yourself in a foolish attempt to get away from me. In return, I promised you that I would spank the living daylights out of you for it. I suppose that I succeeded in doing just that, since you fell asleep almost directly afterwards…still over my lap!” The German threw up his free hand in exasperation with his stubborn troublemaker.

“And I am sure the pain in your bottom accounts for the rest of it. Unfortunately, you upset me greatly with your careless antics. In turn, I went slightly overboard with your spanking. I thought you were badly hurt when you fell, and your head hit the ground that hard. And I was –” The _Kommandant_ cut himself off, clearing his throat.

“Ahem. Anyhow, I needed to rub some skin repair lotion on your insolent behind, just as I did after you received the belt from me. But the lotion was in my bedroom, while **you** were still snoring away across my lap,” the German colonel explained.

The older man raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his senior POW officer, and paused for breath before continuing. “Therefore, I had to get you up so that I could get the lotion and rub it on your bruised skin. And obviously I could not call for any sort of help, since those circumstances would raise far too many questions for the both of us.”

“After some tricky maneuvering, I sat you up, stood you up, and sleepwalked you in here. After I got you lying down on your stomach, I went and changed, grabbing the lotion and rope afterwards. Then I applied the lotion to your bottom. Since you were asleep, I was able to rub it all the way in. You are welcome for that, by the way.”

The tall German rolled his eyes at the apparent soft spot he’d developed for his brat. “I took off your shoes as well and tucked you in under the blanket so that you would not freeze or get sick. I also set your uniform trousers on the dresser and placed your shoes are at the foot of the bed. Finally, I tied your wrist to mine so that I would know if you tried to roll onto your side or back. And I was not going to leave this room until you had woken up. Any questions?” Klink finished.

For once, Hogan didn’t interrupt the older man or make any smart-aleck comebacks. And for almost two full minutes after the _Kommandant_ had finished his tale, Hogan didn’t say a word. His eyes were wide with wonder as he stared at the German colonel. That was the most incredible, yet weirdest story he’d ever heard. The older officer had done all that just for **him?** Since when did Klink care about him that much?

Okay yes, so he always made sure that the American had quality aftercare after a punishment was doled out. Klink also always made sure to calm him down and talk things over with him. In this way, the _Kommandant_ was able to help him ‘center himself’, so to speak. But what he’d just heard was…well, nothing short of amazing. By now Hogan was seriously beginning to wonder if ‘brat’ and ‘troublemaker’ were the older man’s way of showing some type of friendly affection towards him.

It seemed odd to be sure, but then Klink himself was odd. A good example was the fact that he wore a monocle instead of glasses like everyone else who needed visual aids. _Who wears a monocle anymore?_ Hogan thought. Above all, the re-telling of the events he’d apparently been asleep for just cemented his decision to come fully clean with the older colonel after the war.

Also, he’d noticed Klink cut himself off at one point about halfway through his explanation; what was that about? _I’ll ask him in a little while,_ Hogan thought. _First things first._ He remembered everything that the tall German said, but he’d thought it’d just been his imagination working overtime. Apparently not.

Finally, the younger officer said slowly, “Ooookay. I remember all of that, but I thought I was just having some sort of weird dream. Frankly, I’m not sure yet if the fact that it wasn’t a dream is a good thing or a bad thing.”

The younger officer held up the wrist that was tied to Klink’s and did a quick calculation in his head. “That means I’ve been here for three and a half hours then. God, it always feels like an eternity whenever I’m here for these ‘discussions’.”

Hogan made air quotes as he said the word and sighed. “Anyway, can you untie my wrist, please? Don’t worry, I can feel the throbbing lava in my butt. Trust me, I’m not planning on rolling over onto it.”

Klink gave him a short nod. “Agreed, as long as you promise to sleep on your stomach tonight while you are here.”

At least Hogan didn’t have any memory loss, which was a good sign. He could understand wanting tonight’s events explained, given the unusual circumstances of Hogan thinking he was dreaming. For once, such a thing didn’t bother him as it normally would.

“Well yeah. After I’ve been here, that’s how I usually –” Hogan cut himself off, certain he hadn’t heard that right. “Wait, what? You want me to sleep **here**?” He had a confused look on his face now.

“Any particular reason for that, sir?” _What the hell is Klink up to now?_ Hadn’t he been through enough for one night? The two of them weren’t exactly buddies who took turns having sleepovers, after all!

Shaking his head, the tall German replied, “You misunderstand me, Robert. I do not **want** you to sleep here, I am **ordering** you to sleep here. I want to make sure you do not have a head injury, despite the fact that you appear to be fine. Such things are not always visible, you understand. Therefore, you will stay where I can keep an eye on you for tonight.”

He glared fiercely at his troublemaker. “Or else we can begin round two of this until you fall asleep yet again. And I trust you remember the last time you instigated round two, hmmm?” he asked with a smirk.

“I would not wish to do that to you, Robert, as it would cause you extreme pain. But if you insist upon it, who am I to deny you?” He shrugged, sincerely hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. _Mostly because I do not think I can follow through with that threat even if Robert pushes me to,_ Klink told himself.

Making a face and shaking his head, which was the universal sign for ‘no’ in case the _Kommandant_ didn’t understand his answer, Hogan replied, “Okay, okay! I’ll stay.” Then he muttered, “You’re so pushy,” under his breath.

“You don’t need to baby me, you know.” Hogan held up the wrist with the rope on it. “So, uh…a little help here?” The hand that was tied was his dominant one, which left him at a disadvantage.

With a small nod, Klink undid the rope and freed their wrists. As Hogan stated that he didn’t need to be babied, the German sighed wearily. _What am I going to do with him? His mulish streak is going to get him killed one day!_ “But you do…at least for tonight,” he said softly.

“Okay, what did you do to me exactly that’s so bad? I heard and understood the rundown you gave me earlier, but there’s still something you’re not telling me. So spill,” Hogan ordered, not caring that he wasn’t in any position to give orders.

“You said you didn’t really lose your temper until you thought I might have gotten badly hurt and you found out I hadn’t been. Besides that, you went to a lot of trouble on my behalf. Which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong,” the American officer added. “But it’s out of character for you.”

Raising his eyebrows, he asked incredulously, “Plus, you said I fell asleep…over your lap?” Hogan still wasn’t able to believe that part. “Are you sure, sir?”

Ignoring the fact that his senior POW officer was the one issuing orders this time, Klink looked the American in the eyes. “First of all, I am quite sure. You **did** fall asleep over my lap! Either I am incredibly comfortable to use as a mattress or you are just that comfortable in general with me.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “If I could explain this to you better, I would. All I can tell you is when you fell asleep, I did not know at first you were asleep. You were not responding to your name after I said it four times, and…”

He shook his head as he trailed off and looked away. “I thought you were dead, that I had accidentally killed you somehow,” he whispered. “And I felt simply awful. How would I ever explain that to your four close friends? How **could** I ever explain that to your four close friends?”

“My who now?” inquired Hogan. “What four close friends?” He knew damn good and well who they were, or at least he thought he did. But the fact that Klink knew it was news to him. After all, the other officer was rarely out and about around the camp.

Klink was usually in his office, doing paperwork or whatever else it was that he did during the day. He shrugged and added, “You’re comfortable enough to lie on, I guess. I was just fine over your lap until you started spanking me!”

“You know very well who they are!” snapped Klink as his gaze fell upon Hogan. His blue eyes simmered with irritation as they met the American’s dark brown ones. “Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau, Sergeants Carter and Kinchloe. Those four close friends.”

Why his smooth talking senior POW officer insisted on playing dumb, he didn’t know. Perhaps he found it entertaining? “If my lap is so comfortable, perhaps you would like to spend more time there in the future!” Klink threatened. _Damn this insolent brat and his smart mouth!_

Shaking his head, a wide-eyed Hogan replied, “Thanks, but I’ll pass on that.” His face grew thoughtful as he considered the older man’s words. “You could always send Schultz to do it,” suggested Hogan helpfully. “He’s your second-in-command, right?” In the US Army Air Force, a full colonel would have another officer as his second-in-command. So for a sergeant to fill that position instead was rather irregular.

Hogan supposed the Third Reich needed all the officers they could get elsewhere, and anyway Schultz was too fat to last long stationed at a fighting post. Not to mention that the sergeant’s gentle nature would quickly get him killed. Likewise, Klink could never fly for the _Luftwaffe_ again since he didn’t have perfect eyesight.

The two made quite a pair when he thought about it. Sometimes he wondered how the two of them ever made it through World War One, since for all his bluster Klink was a gentle soul as well. Even if he’d been anything **but** gentle with Hogan’s rear end tonight!

“No, I could not. Not even if that is true.” Klink said. “I would **never** do that to Sergeant Schultz anyhow, as he is far too close to you and your men. The news of a prisoner’s death is the sole job of the _Kommandant_ to deliver to his comrades, in any event.”

As he looked away again, Klink added, “That is information I would deliver to them in person, as well as in private.”

While he didn’t see it, he felt Hogan’s questioning look. So Klink added, “They could very well decide they wanted my life in return for taking yours. Even if it was accidental.”

“So…what then? You tell them that kind of news in private, they attack you and you shoot them for doing it?” asked Hogan indignantly.

Cocking his head, he asked, “What do you mean by that, sir? I mean, sure he visits us a lot. But isn’t that his job as your Sergeant of the Guard? Isn’t he supposed to keep tabs on us?”

Just how much had Klink noticed about them that Hogan wasn’t giving him credit for?

The German colonel looked like the American one had slapped him. _What kind of man does he think I am?_ thought Klink sadly. Clearly, Hogan had a very low opinion of him! And God help him, but it really bothered him…even if he shouldn’t care.

“The exact opposite, Robert. As I already stated, I would tell them such a thing in private. But first I would put my Luger – fully loaded, by the way – where any of them could reach it. And if one of them should decide to shoot me, I would not stop them, nor call for help. A life for a life is fair.” Klink shrugged as if his possibly being murdered was no big deal.

Hogan scowled. “Yeah, and then they get killed for killing you to avenge my death.” He shook his head. “What a cycle.”

Klink bowed his head briefly in agreement with that last statement. “Well, not if nobody knew that they shot me. No one here would even notice I was gone.”

“Now what are you talking about? You’re the _Kommandant_ here, everybody knows what you look like. How could anyone not notice you were missing?” Hogan didn’t know what drugs Klink was on, but he wanted some of them. They’d be useful to numb the pain in his behind if nothing else.

You really couldn’t miss the tall Prussian colonel! Klink always walked stooped over, wore a monocle and carried a riding crop under his arm constantly. Not to mention that he was constantly trying to keep any visiting officers happy, no matter their rank. And that went double if an officer belonged to the Gestapo or the SS.

Yet Klink just shook his head. “Robert, **if** I were to give your men such news, I would take them all out of the camp to do it. Then if they shot me, they could escape. And really, there would be no ‘if’ in that equation. I am certain one of your corporals would do it happily, as I know both of them have no love for my people,” he replied.

Hogan was in shock as he propped himself up on his elbows to see Klink better. He was still lying on his stomach, so it was strange to do. “And destroy your perfect record? Now who’s crazy? You tell anybody and everybody who’ll listen about it, so it’s got to make you proud somehow.”

The tall German shrugged and looked grim. “If I were dead, why would I care about such a thing? I doubt General Burkhalter would even care. I know he does not like me very much,” he added.

“I don’t think Burkhalter likes **anybody** very much. It’s probably part of his job description as a general to be a sourpuss,” Hogan added. “Besides if it makes you feel any better sir, he might not like you all that well. But he can’t stand Major Hochstetter **at all**. I’ve been in your office when they were talking and it’s really obvious,” he offered in an attempt to cheer the German officer up.

What the heck was going on here? Was he in a different reality or was Klink actually on drugs? He studied the older man for a moment, inspecting his pupils. No, he didn’t look high.

_Maybe he’s drunk?_ Hogan wondered. Judging by their current conversation, it was a possibility.

But the _Kommandant_ only cleared his throat as he removed his monocle and begin to clean it with a cloth he kept in the bathrobe’s pocket. “Well, thankfully none of that horrid scenario came to pass. You are alive, and that is what matters.”

Hogan didn’t like seeing Klink moody or upset, and right now he sounded depressed. While it was fun to mess with the other colonel as he did, there was a difference between being angry and being sad. The latter could potentially cause problems for the Unsung Heroes’ mission.

_Yeah, just keep telling yourself that,_ his conscience whispered. _You like him well enough and you trust him at least a little, or you wouldn’t be here right now._ Ugh, it really knew how to be annoying!

Putting his monocle back in his eye, Klink had to smile at the American’s attempt to make him smile, which succeeded. “Of course Burkhalter does not. Nobody likes the Gestapo, and the Gestapo does not like anybody in return. Now that I **know** is part of the job description,” he said. “It is quite plain to see to anyone with eyes.”

Hogan snickered at the unexpected response from the German. Who knew Klink had a sense of humor? “Trust me, I can believe that. I’ve been a ‘guest’ in their headquarters before I came here. They’re a nasty bunch. And by the way, that place is really morose. It’s all dark gray and black everywhere. I’m telling you, they seriously need a new decorator. Maybe one that’s **not** color blind would be a good start,” he replied.

The German colonel shook his head in amusement at the answer he got from his brat. “In response to your earlier question: yes, that is Schultz’s job to ‘keep tabs on you’ as you put it. What is **not** his job, however, is for my sergeant to spend half of his time either in your barracks or somehow right outside the door. It has gotten to the point where if I need him, I only have to look inside Barracks 2. I will either find Schultz in there or one of you will be able to point me in the correct direction.”

Though he tried not to, Hogan had to smile at Klink’s accurate assessment of Schultz’s whereabouts. The fat sergeant disliked everything about war and all his duties relating to it, so he made up endless excuses to visit Barracks 2. Oftentimes he would play poker with them, despite gambling being forbidden anywhere inside of Stalag 13.

As a result, Schultz lost a lot of his paycheck to them having fun…and they actually got money that wasn’t counterfeit! Sometimes he left his rifle behind as well, which meant he had to come back for it. _Newkirk probably has custody of Schultz’s rifle more than he does,_ thought Hogan with a smile.

But he couldn’t tell Klink any of that. “Well, so? LeBeau’s a great cook, and Schultz enjoys good food. We can always count on him to eat any leftovers. I can’t speak for the officer’s mess, but the food we get sucks.”

“Schultz likes **any** food,” muttered Klink. But the tall German still rolled his eyes at Hogan’s last comment, which was a fair assessment.

The American colonel shrugged. “Besides that, we like the company and we get to hear the latest news. It’s not like **you** ever visit us,” Hogan pointed out.

“Robert, I have better things to do than fraternize with the prisoners. It is forbidden anyway, and regulations exist for a reason!” the _Kommandant_ said. “Sergeant Schultz has more of a – ah, tolerant nature – than I do anyhow,” he said reasonably.

“Yeah, we all know Schultzie’s a big teddy bear,” responded Hogan with a grin.

Meanwhile, Klink briefly looked as if he was considering bending those regulations. “And somehow, I do not think your men would be too appreciative if I visited you anyhow. You may tolerate me, but I cannot say the same for them. So do not try and lie about it,” he warned. “Besides, I would think you already get your fill of harassing me during the daytime.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” replied Hogan cheerfully. “You’re right, they can’t stand you. But you could still visit with me! I’ve got my own little room, you know, and it’s got two bunks. We could always talk in there.”

The American’s cheerful tone switched to an insulted one as he talked. “Colonel Klink, I’m offended! I don’t harass you when I come to your office, I come to brighten up your day! Or possibly make it more interesting. It just depends on the day,” he added.

“You could do well to make it a little **less** interesting,” Klink remarked. Then he uttered a low growl of exasperation. “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to visit you in your ‘room’ without going through the rest of Barracks 2? Your room is at the back of it, in case you have forgotten that.”

Now it was the older man’s turn to peer at his senior POW officer, the way Hogan had done to him earlier. “Are you quite sure you are alright?”

“Well, I don’t know! Climb through the window?” Hogan suggested. He shook his head in amusement. “I’m assuming you have the blueprints of all the barracks somewhere in the _Kommandtur_. Besides, you’re the _Kommandant_ here, not me. Figure it out, sir.”

The American colonel grinned at the thunderous expression on Klink’s face, counting the seconds in his head until the older officer yelled his name like he often did. _Any minute now…_

**“HOOO-GAAAN!”** Klink shook his fist in the air. “I am not amused! But I am glad to see you have remembered that.” In a low mutter, he added, “Sometimes I wonder if it is true.” His last sentence was too low to be heard, but it was there.

**_ Revelations occur… _ **

Hogan shifted his weight slightly as he hung one leg off the bed and flexed his foot. The throbbing pain in his rear end began to pulse, and an involuntary “Owww!” slipped out before he could catch it.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you a question, sir.” His curiosity was killing him by now, and he wanted to know what Klink had stopped himself from saying earlier.

“That depends on what you wish to ask,” replied Klink cautiously. “I may or may not answer you.” As he heard Hogan’s cry of pain, he stiffened. “Robert, _was ist es?_ Are you alright?” He stood up quickly, intending to help his obviously hurting brat.

Well, if he hadn’t guessed it earlier, now he was sure: Klink definitely cared about him. _Or maybe he’s just feeling guilty about what he did to you,_ replied the pessimistic part of him. Hogan ignored it though, because his gut told him that wasn’t merely the reaction of someone who only felt guilty. And his gut was rarely wrong.

Then he waved his hand at the German colonel, who was standing there wringing his hands and looking helpless. “Would you sit down? I’m fine.”

“That is a lie!” Klink said as he pointed a slender finger at Hogan. He was still standing, his posture straight for once as he expressed his concern. “You are obviously **not **fine, Robert. It is clear you are in a lot of pain. I am just not sure what else to do for you.”

“Well, you could start by not punishing me the way you’ve been doing anymore,” Hogan shot back. “That’d help a whole lot right there.”

Sighing, his voice took on a serious tone. “Really, I’m fine. I just stretched my leg out too far, and it tightened the skin on my butt which caused a bolt of pain. Pain that wouldn’t be there if **someone ,**” Hogan added as he glared at Klink, “wasn’t so thorough and meticulous in his self-assigned task.”

He waved his hand dismissively again. “Now would you please sit down? You’re making me a little nervous.”

Subdued at the true words, Klink immediately sat back down. He couldn’t deny that he was the reason for his troublemaker’s current predicament, but he still had to say something in return.

“Well, I would not have that task if **someone else** did not hold the double titles of troublemaker and brat,” he replied.

“Anyhow, of course I am thorough. I am that way in all that I do, you know. And I will continue to be so in the future when you cause any problems in my camp. You are not going to get out of this arrangement that easily. But it was an excellent try,” the tall German said to Hogan as he smirked.

Hogan was glad Klink was sitting down again. He wasn’t a man who was easily intimidated, but the combination of his throbbing rear end and Klink towering over him gave him cause for nervousness. He stuck out his lower lip in a pout and huffed, since he wasn’t able to cross his arms at the moment.

“Gee, thanks,” he grumbled. “I feel so much better now.”

“You are most welcome,” said Klink with a grin, ignoring the sarcasm. His brat acted like such a sullen little boy after these ‘discussions’, the resemblance to his nephews was almost eerie.

Actually, Hogan was more like a spoiled child who threw a temper tantrum because he didn’t get his way, then looked surprised when he was punished for it.

_An accurate description of my brat, actually,_ thought Klink before he frowned.

When had he started thinking of Hogan as ‘his’ brat instead of just a brat? He shoved that thought away to ponder later. “You said you had a question for me?” he prompted.

The senior POW officer nodded as he considered how best to approach this. After mulling it over, he decided to go with being blunt. While not always the best tactic, bluntness had its uses. “Okay, so please don’t get mad sir. But –”

“Robert, any sentence that begins with ‘Do not get mad’ usually results in exactly that, especially when that sentence is coming from your mouth,” interrupted the German officer with a sigh.

He was slightly wary now, due to how Hogan had chosen to phrase whatever he was going to say. What was his troublemaker up to now?

“Sir, if you would let me finish my sentence I’d appreciate it,” said Hogan.

Klink nodded and the younger officer continued on. “Anyway, like I started to say: please don’t get mad sir, but earlier when you were telling me what happened, after you told me I hit my head you started to say something else. But you cut yourself off. You said, ‘And I was’ before you did it. What were you going to say?”

The American colonel gave the German one a sincere, meaningful glance. “Look, I’m not gonna tell anybody else whatever it is you say. If nothing else, I’d have to admit why I was here and what made you say it. And I’m **definitely** not doing that. But my curiosity is killing me,” he admitted.

A shudder went through him at the thought of having to explain this whole…situation…and the humiliation that would certainly follow that revelation.

Klink let out a long sigh. He’d been afraid Hogan would notice that, since his brat was a sharp one who noticed almost everything! It made him sad that they weren’t on the same side.

The older man was about to decline to answer the question when Hogan spoke again. He had to concur that the other colonel was correct; the question was, could he trust Hogan to keep his word?

_Yes,_ his conscience whispered. _Wilhelm, he trusts you or he would not let you spank him! And he would have to explain his part in all of this as well. If nothing else, you would not go down alone in this._

Well, his conscience made a good point. Deciding to risk it and hope the American wasn’t fooling him yet again, Klink spoke. “Earlier, I was going to say, ‘And I was worried sick about you.’ But I thought it sounded rather sappy, so I declined to state it,” he finally answered with a small shrug and a grimace.

Klink wasn’t one to get overly emotional, yet Hogan had managed to worm his way into the small group of people he cared for. _And the fact that he managed to do that at all says something about your lack of friends,_ remarked the evil part of him.

There was a long silence for a few moments, and when he could bear it no longer, Klink spoke again.

“Robert, say something. Say something witty like you so often do. Anything at all,” he all but pleaded. Had his revelation been a mistake? And if so, how was he supposed to fix it?

“I was just thinking about what I could say, sir,” Hogan finally said slowly. “It’s an unusual situation we’ve got here. So for once, I wasn’t trying to mess with you.”

His brow furrowed as Hogan thought the situation over. “Look, I’m not the sappy type either. Usually, I prefer to leave that to the women. So I’m just gonna say this once. And then we can never speak of this again if you don’t want to. I’ll leave that up to you.”

Hogan smiled as he realized Klink thought he was witty! And why did that statement make him feel special? Y _ou don’t want to know,_ replied his inner voice. _Not if you want to keep yourself in denial._

“Agreed,” replied Klink, far too quickly. “What is on your mind, Robert?” He was just grateful that they both seemed to be on the same page.

Sighing, Hogan told him. “I like you. Actually, I like you quite a lot, and I think you were right before. If we’d met outside of this war, we could’ve been friends. Good friends. And I trust you with my general well-being and safety, or there’s no way I’d be here, having these ‘discussions’ with you. If I even **thought** you were sadistic in any way, I would’ve told you to go to hell that first night and took my chances with Hochstetter. I’ve tangled with him before…he doesn’t worry me. To be honest, his temper actually makes him a lot of fun to irritate.”

He smiled sheepishly. “If there’s one thing you do really well, it’s standing up for me and my men. With anything else, I probably wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. But you’ve shown time and again you won’t let anyone mess with us. That’s enough for me to like you right there. I also really enjoy talking with you during the day, our spontaneous games of chess and just getting to know you a little. That’s all.”

Hogan’s cheeks flushed at the end of his mini-speech, which surprised even him. _And there goes your last shred of denial,_ came that snarky inner voice.

“Language, Robert,” admonished Klink out of habit. He was taken aback by this declaration, since he’d just expected Hogan to say that he didn’t hate him and leave it at that. Not for the first time, his brat had managed to leave him utterly speechless.

“I…I do not know what to say to that. I mean, I know what I wish to say,” he amended, “but I am trying to think how to best phrase it.”

Groaning, he added, “Robert, only you would think it was ‘fun’ to antagonize a member of the Gestapo! Maybe not here, but you are going to get yourself killed one day with that attitude, do you realize that?” Klink inquired.

Hogan drummed his fingers on the bed, a smile on his face. “Eh, you’ve heard the old saying ‘The good die young’? I figure that’s where I’m headed,” he said.

He cocked his head and gave Klink an appraising look. “Just spit it out. We’re not ever going to speak of this again, remember?” the American colonel added. Now he was **really** curious to know what Klink was thinking!

“Yes, that is true,” sighed the tall German. “Alright then. I have not said this before, since it would be considered a crime in the Third Reich. But –”

“Look, just about **everything** is considered a crime in the Third Reich,” interrupted Hogan with a smirk.

He saw the glare he received, and his grin faded away. “Sorry, Colonel Klink. Please continue.”

_“Danke,”_ replied the older man as he rolled his eyes. Hogan would be the death of him yet! “As I was saying, I would…I was…oh, forget it,” he said in disgust before throwing up his hands and giving up trying to phrase this delicately.

“I like you quite a lot too, or I would not invite you to play chess with me until late into the night. I enjoy getting to know you, learning firsthand about the United States and what life is like there. As you know, I have never visited your country. Even though I would like to do so very much,” Klink stated.

A wistful smile played across his lips as he pictured life in America. “From what you have previously said, your country is a democracy. It is a place where everyone has an equal say. That sounds simply _wunderbar,_ ” Klink said longingly.

The current regime was the exact opposite of that, and to live in a place weren’t terrified of their own police force sounded too good to be true! He couldn’t imagine willingly walking up to a policeman and asking for help without them wanting a heavy price in return. The very idea sounded completely absurd. If Klink did that with a member of the Gestapo, he’d likely either end up dead or blackmailed for something he hadn’t done.

But his smile soon faded away and he sighed. Something else that was true occurred to him as well. “I also would not let you get away with talking me into shortening any cooler sentences on behalf of your men. If it were up to me, we would not even have a cooler! I dislike it, which you know. That is the reason for our current arrangement,” he added with a smirk. “Any other _Kommandant_ would have had you transferred to a different _Luft Stalag_ a long time ago. The other _Kommandanten_ are not like me, Robert.”

Grinning, the younger man said sassily, “You mean they don’t wear a monocle?”

Klink shot him a dirty look. “No! I meant that they are not as nice as I am.”

“That’s no lie. I’ve met some of them on a few occasions. Let me tell you, they were real jerks,” replied Hogan before he thought about it.

Realizing what he’d just said, he paled and gave Klink a panicked look. “Just forget I said that, okay?”

But Klink couldn’t do that, no matter if he wanted to or not. It was his turn for his curiosity to be nagging at him. He **had** to know! The scared expression on his brat’s face wasn’t helping to quell it either. “What are you talking about, Robert? How could you do that? The Gestapo said that they brought you straight here.”

Hogan’s expression changed from afraid to impassive, the same poker face he used when he got potentially bad news about a mission. “Would you believe that the Gestapo were nice enough to take me on a tour to see which country club I wanted to join, and I picked this one?” he offered half-heartedly.

Klink snorted, something he normally didn’t do as he considered it unbecoming to a man of his lineage. “No, if for no other reason than you used the words ‘Gestapo’ and ‘nice’ in the same sentence. And this is **not** a country club!” he added. “Just tell me the truth, for God’s sake.”

Yet the American was already shaking his head. “Afraid I can’t do that, sir. But I’ll tell you what: when the Allies win the war, I’ll tell you everything I know. And it’s a lot,” he added. “That’s all I can say right now.”

“ **When** the Allies win the war? What makes you so sure that they will win?” demanded Klink. “Do you possess a crystal ball, perhaps? I shall have you know that our illustrious _Luftwaffe_ –”

“– got the stuffing knocked out of them and fled like cowards in the Battle of Britain. And after **they** attacked Britain first!” exclaimed Hogan. “I should know, I was there.” He smirked at the shocked look on Klink’s face.

“It’s true. They just arrived in a swarm out of the blue and started dropping bombs everywhere. Fortunately, our boys got in the air quickly and took them out each time. But they attacked us first.”

Hogan couldn’t resist adding, “Your planes have a terrible turning mechanism, by the way. It took them forever to turn around. But the adrenaline rush from the battle was great!”

“I know they do,” replied Klink irritably. “The _Luftwaffe_ engineers are working on fixing that.”

He was still shocked that Hogan had flown in that battle and not been shot down. While he’d obviously never seen Hogan fly, he had no doubt that the American was a talented pilot. General Biedenbender’s comments alone had proven that.

_“Herr_ Goebbels told everyone that the English attacked German territory first, and that we were just defending ourselves,” Klink said.

“Seeing as England isn’t German territory and that the _Luftwaffe_ landed the first strike, he lied,” replied Hogan matter-of-factly. “And if you’re talking about your Minister of Propaganda, you should have known better than to believe him. After all, that’s what propaganda is: a mix of truth and fabrications designed to fool the people.”

He shook his head sadly. “If your propaganda department is lying to their own people now, you have your answer on why I know the Allies will win the war. We have our own propaganda department in America, and I won’t deny it slanders the Axis Powers. But we don’t – and never have – lied to our own people. If things are going badly, we tell them what’s going on first. Then we figure out how to solve the problem. You can’t fix what you don’t know about, and a lot of people have had some pretty good ideas in the past.”

A thought occurred to him, and Hogan went deathly white. “Wait a minute…” He was horrified at what had just occurred to him.

Klink himself had gone deathly white. Goebbels had lied to the German people? He knew he shouldn’t believe the American officer, yet what Hogan said made sense. Too much sense. He noticed Hogan’s lack of color, and as he went to speak, they asked the same question at the same time.

“What’s wrong with you, sir?”

“What is wrong with you, Robert?”

The simultaneous sentence surprised both of them, and they both smiled as color returned to their faces. “You first,” replied Hogan. Was it his blunt informing the older man of the truth that had made him pale, or something else?

“Alright.” Klink swallowed hard as he struggled to express his thoughts. “When you said that _Herr_ Goebbels lied about the battle, that means he lied to **us.** He lied to the German people.”

Hogan nodded in agreement, which resulted in Klink massaging his temples. He could feel a headache coming on from their discussion so far. “He has never done that before. And he would have no reason to do that, unless…”

He held his head in his hands, the knowledge hitting him like a sack of bricks. And he was glad he was already sitting down, because the truth was shown so clearly, he didn’t know how he’d missed it before. “Good lord, we really are losing the war.”

The tall German looked at his troublemaker, the only person who had been honest with him about the matter so far. _Denial is both a wonderful and terrible thing,_ his inner voice said.

“I see why you think the Allies will win the war now,” he said forlornly. “But you understand I still have to pretend that I do not know this information. I still have to remain a loyal officer of the Third Reich in front of everyone else.”

He gave his troublemaker the side-eye, wondering what the problem was now. “So what is wrong with you, Robert?”

Hogan nodded, already having figured out that was the case. Anyone who didn’t appear to be loyal to Hitler tended to be shot or disappear, especially officers! “I figured that out already, _Kommandant._ Like I said before, anything said in these quarters stays in these quarters.”

As Klink asked his question, Hogan shook his head. “The Battle of Britain…did you fly in it? I know you were a pilot in World War One, but you said before that you flew in this war too. Tell me!” he demanded uncharacteristically as his stomach churned with despair.

Raising his eyebrows, the tall German shook his head. “No, I did not. My eyesight was already damaged by then, so I was grounded. I have been the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13 since mid-January of 1940.”

Inwardly, he recoiled at the unusual demanding tone Hogan had in his voice. He sounded…afraid _? Why would Robert be afraid?_ he wondered. Klink decided to ask him, since he wasn’t a mind reader. “Why does that matter? What is wrong with you? Are you having a flashback? Do you need help?”

Instead of replying right away. Hogan lifted his arms and dropped fully back onto the mattress in relief. “Oh, thank God. Thank God,” he repeated.

He was relieved that his fear hadn’t been true! Realizing that the German colonel had asked him a question, he gathered his thoughts. “First of all, no. I’m not having a flashback. Heck, I’m right as rain now.”

The younger colonel was grinning ear-to-ear at Klink. “I’m just relieved that you weren’t there, because it means I’m not the one who shot you down and grounded you forever by ruining your eyesight.”

His grin faded as he continued on. “It also means I couldn’t have shot you down at all, since you were grounded by then. That’s a good thing.”

Klink looked at the American like he’d grown a second head. That was why Hogan was so worried? He was touched, even if it was a quite odd thing for his brat to be concerned over. “ **That** is what caused your sudden pallor just now?” he inquired. “You were worried that you might have caused my eye injury?”

_A prisoner of war is that concerned if he shot down his jailer?_ _The world gets stranger every day,_ he thought.

“Yup,” affirmed Hogan with a small nod. “I’m glad I wasn’t the one to hurt you. As both a pilot and a prisoner of war, I know what it’s like to be shot down and grounded. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Sighing, Klink replied, “You are a strange individual, Robert Hogan, do you know that?” But he couldn’t deny that Hogan’s concern over if he had been the one to permanently ground him, Klink, was extremely touching.

“Oh, I already knew that, sir,” said Hogan with a smirk. “So, are you sleeping in the chair then? Because you don’t have to on my account. I’m not going anywhere at,” he checked his watch, “0230 hours. (2:30am) Wow, have we really been talking that long?”

“Indeed we have, my troublemaker,” murmured Klink, taking satisfaction in the embarrassed look on Hogan’s face. “Time flies, I suppose. And no, I will return to my room. You will stay here,” he added.

“There will also be none of your ‘monkey business’ as Schultz likes to call it…or there will be consequences that you will not like after you are fully healed! Do I make myself clear, Robert?” he demanded.

“Yes, Dad,” deadpanned Hogan. “I couldn’t do any ‘monkey business’ tonight if I wanted to; my rear end is still hosting the lava party. Besides that, I’d prefer not to be shot for being out at this time of morning. The night guards seem a little jumpy.”

Deciding to further elaborate, Hogan added, “The fact that I was running hell-bent for leather **towards** your quarters earlier probably would’ve made them nervous, if I hadn’t had Schultzie with me. I’m sure seeing me come from here at this hour would probably do the same thing.”

“Hosting the lava party?” repeated a baffled Klink as he stood up. Sometimes Hogan’s American sayings made absolutely no sense to him! “And that means what, exactly?”

Letting out a loud huff of annoyance, Hogan replied, “It means, sir, that my butt is on fire. It feels like I’ve sat in lava. It’s extremely sore, it’s throbbing angrily, and it feels like it’s swollen to at least twice its normal size. And I don’t even want to think about how it actually looks!”

His tone was sullen as he pouted. “Getting dressed later on is going to really suck the big potato.”

“Ah, I see,” chuckled Klink as he walked towards the door. _‘Suck the big potato’?_ His wayward brat certainly had a way with words!

“Well, try behaving for a change! Then you will not have that problem, correct? Try keeping your men under control as well, and you will experience what it is like to sit down again.”

His tone was a teasing one, which only served to make Hogan look even more sullen. “Drama queen!”

“Look, I’d like to see how you’d act in my place,” retorted the American colonel.

He adjusted the pillows as he prepared for yet another night of sleeping on his stomach. Hogan was normally a man who preferred to sleep on his back, but for the last four months he’d become a stomach sleeper thanks to Wilhelm Klink!

“By the way, _Kommandant_ …you should know something about me. I mean, if you don’t know it already,” he added.

Klink was almost to the door when Hogan said that, the words making him freeze in place. Slowly, he turned around, almost afraid of what this new revelation would be. “And that is?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

“Relax, it’s a good thing,” replied Hogan. “I thought you should know that I always take care of my friends and those I care about. That means I protect them or die trying.”

“And why, pray tell, do I need to know that?” inquired Klink.

The edge was gone from his voice now. But he was still afraid to be hopeful, just in case his troublemaker didn’t mean what Klink was hoping he meant.

Hogan sighed. “Because, sir, it means after this war I’ll keep you safe. You, Schultzie and Corporal Langenscheidt, who’s also a decent man and treats us with respect. I can guarantee that you won’t stand trial for war crimes or anything else. Nor will any of you see any prison time. You guys might not be my friends, but you’re some of the people I care about. All three of you have done right by me, and I don’t forget that sort of thing. Ever.”

The senior POW officer laughed softly. “Just don’t tell any of my men I said that, because they’d throw a hissy fit. I think LeBeau and Newkirk might actually die of shock. That also means don’t tell Schultz or Langenscheidt. We all know Schultz is a blabbermouth, and Langenscheidt’s like the camp newspaper, so…yeah.”

Klink gave Hogan a puzzled yet hopeful look. That was excellent news, except for one slight snag. “How can you guarantee what the Allied High Command will or won’t do, Robert? Even a colonel is not all-powerful.”

He shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but do not make promises that you cannot keep.”

“Oh, but I can keep it, _Kommandant._ The Allied High Command will do anything I ask of them after the war. Let’s just say they owe me a huge debt and leave it at that. I’m a very well-connected man, Colonel Klink. I can either be someone’s worst enemy, or the best person in the world to have on your side. Fortunately for you, I’m on your side. Well, as much as I can be and still belong to the Allies,” Hogan amended.

He debated telling Klink he had very different plans in mind for him, but decided against it. It would only stress the older man out, and that didn’t seem fair to do to him right now. Klink had taken good care of him tonight, and even Hogan knew when he couldn’t push it anymore.

A smile crept over Hogan’s face as he considered the possibilities. “And I wouldn’t mind showing you the United States after the war is over. We can take a vacation and stay for a few weeks. Heck, we can even visit Palm Springs,” he suggested.

“And depending on the time of year it is, we can go to the beach! Lots of pretty _frauen_ there in cute bathing suits there, and they go bananas for any type of foreign accent. They love military guys too, especially the high-ranking ones. **You** happen to be a military officer with a German accent. That means you’ll be a hit, Colonel Klink!” he said enthusiastically as he grinned. “They won’t be able to resist you.”

He actually clapped his hands in excitement, though due to lying on his stomach, it was hard to do. For once, he wasn’t trying to appeal to the German officer’s vanity. He actually believed what he was saying, because Hogan was something of a ladies’ man and knew what they liked!

“Come to think of it, they won’t be able to resist me either…I’ve got to have a German accent after being here for three years. Do I sound like a German to you?” Hogan inquired as he looked at Klink. He knew that complete immersion in a foreign country could change how you sounded and spoke, so he was curious.

Klink looked at his witty senior POW officer like he’d lost his mind. “You wish to go to the beach?” he asked, certain he hadn’t heard the American correctly. “In the cold? And you think there will be people out there in **bathing suits** in that type of weather?”

Perhaps Hogan had gone stir-crazy, because the idea was simply impossible. “Why in the world would anyone go swimming in the water when it is fifteen degrees Celsius (sixty degrees Fahrenheit) outside? They would get sick!” Klink exclaimed.

After rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea, the older colonel added, “No Robert, you do not sound like a German. You sound like an American, the same as you did the day you arrived at my camp.”

“Well, that bites. But hey, at least I’m still a veteran!” replied Hogan. “Besides, who could resist these good looks?”

He was silent for a moment as he considered the German colonel’s question. Then it dawned on him that German summers obviously were a lot cooler than the ones in the US. He had to chuckle as he cleared up the miscommunication they were having.

“Sir, your summers must be really mild here. In my country, the weather can get up to 130 degrees Fahrenheit – fifty four degrees Celsius – depending on where you are. But the average is around 104 degrees Fahrenheit, or forty degrees Celsius,” he explained even as he mentally did the conversions. “It gets really hot.”

The German colonel’s eyes went wide as he absorbed this new information. “That is not hot, that is the entrance to the devil’s realm!” he declared. “And we would be burnt to a crisp within the hour in the sun.” He did like the idea of pretty _frauen_ hanging on him, though.

Klink had never had much luck with women. Why, he didn’t know. He’d always been a perfect gentleman, but they all seemed to shy away from him. So the idea of women who would all but throw themselves at him was very appealing. And the best part was that none of those women were Gertrude Linkmeyer!

“No we won’t,” replied Hogan crossly. “Don’t you guys have any type of sunscreen in this country? Surely you Germans have something you put on when you’re going to be in the sun a lot!”

“Sunscreen?” repeated Klink, not knowing what that was. “Ah…I do not think so.”

Surely he would have heard of such a thing if it were real, right? But he liked the idea of having a vacation and getting to see the country he’d heard so much about!

Sighing wearily, the American colonel said, “Alrighty then. Well, we’ve got it in the United States. It’s called Red Pet Vet, which is really similar to petroleum jelly. You just rub it on your skin occasionally, and it keeps you from getting sunburned. I’ll show you some day if you want,” he finished with a yawn.

Well, that had been a bewildering little speech! Klink wanted desperately to know just how connected Hogan was, but decided that in the interest of his sanity, he was better off **not** knowing.

Still, the American seemed very sure he could keep that promise…and Hogan didn’t seem like the type to make promises and break them. In that regard, he would take Hogan at his word and pray that he was telling the truth.

“Now, I need to get some sleep before roll call. At least the cold weather will help my butt cool off…even with clothes on,” Hogan grumbled. “Goodnight, _Kommandant.”_

As his brat complained about his bottom again, Klink had to smile. “Perhaps it will. Or perhaps it will be a nice **hot** day for a change. Then the rest of you could be warm too,” he replied teasingly. A groan was heard from Hogan as he added, “ _Gute nacht_ to you too, Robert.” Then he turned off the light as he turned and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him as he headed to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: The Battle of Britain took place from July 10th, 1940 to October 31st, 1940. It was the first battle that was fought entirely by aircraft and air forces. The combatants were the _Luftwaffe_ of Nazi Germany and _Corpo Aereo Italiano_ (CAI) on the Axis Powers’ side, while the Allies had the Royal Air Force (RAF) of the United Kingdom and the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF). The battle started because the Third Reich was trying to force a negotiated peace settlement from Britain, but it failed. The Allies made sure that the Axis Powers suffered heavy losses – far too many to continue – and they refused to fight any longer. So they withdrew from the battle, causing an Allied victory.**
> 
> **I’ve got no idea how hot the summers actually are or are not in Germany, but I took liberties for my story. I’m pretty sure nobody has a summer temperature of only 60 degrees! :)**
> 
> **While sunscreen was around before 1944, for this story only the Americans had it available to them. History states that a Florida airman and pharmacist named Benjamin Green invented the ‘Red Pet Vet’, which stood for ‘red veterinary petrolatum.’ It was a disagreeable red, sticky substance similar to petroleum jelly.**


	6. An Explosion Then Equals A Fire Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergeant Carter was supposed to make a _**small**_ bomb in order to order to help pave the way for the Heroes’ newest tunnel. Regrettably, he accidentally made the bombs too big, which in turn made them too powerful. So instead of making a tunnel entrance, he blew up the officer’s mess hall instead. Needless to say, Colonel Klink and the other guards are _**not**_ happy about that, especially Sergeant Schultz!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show._**  
>   
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Guten morgen_ = Good morning  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Wunderbar_ = Wonderful  
>  _Ja_ = Yes  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Bitte_ = Please  
>  _Was mache ich mit dir?_ = What am I going to do with you?  
>  _Jawohl_ = Yes sir  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Auf Wiedersehen_ = Goodbye

_**  
**_

**_ Barracks 2, Colonel Hogan’s room… _ **

Sergeant Andrew J. Crater. Sweet, innocent, naïve Carter. _Who would have possibly thought **Carter** would be the source of my latest dilemma? _That was the question Colonel Hogan was asking himself as he laid on his upper bunk, staring up at the ceiling. And the worst part was, he couldn’t even demote Carter in rank for getting him, Hogan, into serious trouble, because he couldn’t tell him **why **he was in trouble…or who was doling out the punishment! Nor could he tell Carter what sort of punishment he would undoubtedly receive later on.

There was simply no way to explain it. Even if he found a way to do so, his men would likely riot or try to escape for real out of spite. The guards and Klink could get hurt, despite the latter’s tendency to hide behind Schultz…who, in turn tended to hide behind Klink, making it an amusing sight to see.

Not to mention that Hogan and his team couldn’t afford to have the _Kommandant_ ’s ‘no escape’ record destroyed. He only wished that the almost two months of peace and quiet had lasted longer. But it wasn’t meant to be, apparently.

No, this was a secret Hogan would take to his grave, out of embarrassment if nothing else. He had to concede Klink’s point that his method was indeed effective, and a major factor in his decision. He’d been in his quarters since right after breakfast, claiming he needed time to think about their next mission.

Klink hadn’t appeared at roll call that morning, so Sergeant Schultz had conducted it instead. That wasn’t normal for the Prussian colonel, and Hogan decided he’d better go see what was wrong with the _Kommandant_ this time. After all, Klink never missed a chance to boast about the supposed ‘superior military efficiency of the Third Reich’ to his prisoners. Not that any of them wanted to hear it, mind you.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk, preparing to hop down. But before he could do so, there was a knock on the door. Staying where he was and sighing wearily, he called out, “Come in!” He was fully expecting it to be one of his men, so he raised his eyebrows when the door opened and Sergeant Schultz walked in. Closing the door behind him and leaning his rifle against the wall, he said, “ _Guten morgen_ , Colonel Hogan.”

“Hey, Schultzie,” greeted the American officer in surprise. “What brings you here? Ol’ Blood and Guts sick again? He wasn’t at roll call this morning.” He noted that the usually cheerful sergeant looked a little downtrodden, which wasn’t normal for him. “What’s wrong with you? You look like Klink just put you on a diet. Or are you going home on furlough again to spend time with your wife?”

All of the prisoners knew that while Schultz loved his wife, he wasn’t thrilled about spending excessive time with her. And having seen the woman’s temper in person, Hogan could see why. _She probably reminds him of his commanding officer!_ Hogan thought to himself with a small smile.

The fat sergeant glared at Hogan. “Hah! Jolly joker. That is not very funny, Colonel Hogan. Why would the _Kommandant_ put me on a diet? Do not say such terrible things,” he ordered, ignoring the comment about his wife. “I am not happy about Sergeant Carter blowing up the officer’s mess. Of all the things to destroy! Next time, tell him to blow up something else,” Schultz suggested with a frown.

“And I am here to deliver two messages to you. The Big Shot sent me, and he said to give you this note,” the _Luftwaffe_ sergeant added as he held out a piece of paper to Hogan. “He is not sick, just hard at work. He was on the phone with General Burkhalter when I left the _Kommandtur_.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because other people like to eat food once in a while too?” The smile faded from Hogan’s face as he digested what he’d heard so far. While a call from the Austrian general wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it had the potential to be.

If he combined Schultz’s bleak mood, Burkhalter’s phone call and now this mysterious message, things looked a little grim. He accepted the paper from the fat sergeant, which was folded into four squares and taped shut. Opening it carefully, Hogan read the contents of it. His face fell as he read the note with its spidery writing, which said:

_To Colonel Hogan,_

_Undoubtedly, you are wondering why I have sent Sergeant Schultz over with this note. Let me clarify that for you, since the last time you were in my office you saw fit to completely ignore me. I am extremely angry at Sergeant Carter – and by extension, you – for blowing up the officer’s mess! That is **beyond** your normal tomfoolery and games, because this is something that **I** have to explain to General Burkhalter! And I have not yet figured out what to tell him in this regard._

_As you can imagine, I need time to calm down. So, my troublemaker, I suggest that you stay far away from the Kommandtur today unless you wish to speed up the date you have with your most hated piece of leather. I also suggest that you avoid me in general until tonight, no matter if you see me outside around the camp or not._

_I will be sending Sergeant Schultz to come get you tonight. You will go with him and you will not give him any problems, or you **will** be sorry. I hope I have made myself very clear!_

_Until tonight,_

_Colonel Klink, **Kommandant** of Stalag 13_

Klink had been sure to underline the words ‘beyond’, ‘I’ and ‘will’ to help make his point, as well as underline the word ‘ _Kommandant_ ’ three times for emphasis. Hogan reread the note and turned pale as the words sunk in. _My most hated piece of leather? Oh God, please no,_ he begged silently. _Please let him just be talking about his riding crop! I don’t think I can handle the belt again._

“Ugh, just great,” he complained before remembering that he wasn’t alone. Then he forced his expression into a neutral one. “Klink said he wants me to listen to one of his Wagner records again. I can’t stand Wagner and he knows it. I’ll take Tommy Dorsey any day. Now that’s something I can dance to.” He hoped the lie was convincing enough to fool Schultz, because he wasn’t up to giving explanations right now. Or ever, come to think of it!

“Jolly joker,” muttered Schultz. “And you have terrrrible taste in music, Colonel Hogan,” the fat sergeant added. “Wagner’s music is beautiful and soulful.” He gave Hogan a searching look. “What is wrong, Colonel Hogan? You look like you somebody stole your last piece of strudel,” he said, the very idea clearly something **he** would be upset over!

Shaking his head, Hogan replied, “I’m fine, Schultz. I just felt a headache come on, that’s all. The constant snow lost its charm after two months here, you know, and the cold weather makes my head hurt.”

He shrugged at the Sergeant of the Guard’s comment and replied, “Well, that’s a matter of opinion. But I like Frank Sinatra too,” he offered with a smile. “He’s very popular in the United States. So what’s the other message you’ve got for me? You said you had two,” he prompted helpfully, hoping to get Schultz to hurry up and leave.

“I will never understand Americans and their strange ways,” the _Luftwaffe_ sergeant grumbled, looking thoughtful as he appeared to be thinking what it was he had to tell the American. His light gray eyes lit up as he remembered something that was obviously important.

“Oh, I have remembered the other message I had for you! The _Kommandant_ says I am to escort you to his quarters tonight for another chess game. He is on a five game winning streak and wishes for you to be there in a timely manner. But that is alright, because it means that **I** get off duty ten minutes early,” he replied, obviously happy about that as he gestured to himself.

“Chess game?” Hogan wondered aloud. _What’s he talking about? I haven’t been…oh._ “Oh right, right! The chess game,” Hogan said hastily as he masked his brief confusion over the strange code. “Yeah, Klink’s been beating my ass constantly lately.”

 _Literally,_ the senior POW officer thought. “Now you know I can’t let that stand! A man’s got to take pride in something, you know. And it must be when he wants me to hear that record too.”

He gave the fat sergeant a lopsided grin. “So you get to get off work early tonight just for me? That’s something to celebrate, Schultz! Since you made me think of it, I’ll have LeBeau make an apple strudel just for you. He’s got a new variation on his recipe that he’s been wanting to try, and you’re the best food critic we have. That sound good?” he asked, faking a cheerfulness he didn’t feel.

But it seemed to successfully distract Schultz, because he grinned and clapped his hands excitedly. “Oh, _danke_ , Colonel Hogan! That sounds _wunderbar_!” he exclaimed, his earlier moodiness forgotten. “I love strudel so much, and LeBeau makes it so tasty!” He turned to leave the room after adding, “I will be here at 2150 hours (9:50pm) to pick you up. So be prepared, _ja_?”

“Of course,” replied Hogan smoothly as they exchanged salutes. _Yeah, be prepared to sleep on my stomach again!_ he thought sullenly. As the fat sergeant exited the room, he rolled his eyes and called out, “Hey Schultz! You forgot your rifle again!” An amused look crossed his features as Schultz came back long enough to grab it.

They exchanged salutes again before the _Luftwaffe_ sergeant left, closing the door behind him. Hogan let out a long sigh as he dug out a lighter and lit the note from Klink on fire. As the flames destroyed all evidence of their arrangement, he pondered how he would explain things this time. Somehow, announcing that he had possession of explosives didn’t seem like a good idea!

**_ 2200 hours, Klink's quarters… _ **

Hogan stood on the porch of Klink’s quarters at exactly 2200 hours after knocking on the door, having just been dropped off there by Sergeant Schultz. The sergeant had wished him luck on the chess game before waddling off somewhere…which was probably back to Barracks 2 for the promised strudel, if he had to guess. The American colonel had been lost in thought all day trying to figure out how to put a positive spin on his latest trouble. But his efforts had been for naught, since his mind kept drifting back to where he was right now.

He had to admit that having Carter do anything that could potentially involve Burkhalter was a very bad idea. But their original intention hadn’t been to blow anything up! The young sergeant was just supposed to make a small hole leading up into the officer’s mess so they would have a direct tunnel to it.

After all, some of the guards weren’t always easily distracted. LeBeau was a fantastic cook, but even he couldn’t make something from nothing. Occasionally, the Heroes ‘liberated’ a few supplies here and there from said officer’s mess, so having a new tunnel would’ve been ideal for them.

Unfortunately, Carter had gotten a little too enthusiastic when he’d made the bombs and made them bigger than he should have. The end result was that the entire building had blown up. What **was** fortunate is that they didn’t have any tunnels nearby. So even after the ruins were cleared away, the Germans hadn’t found anything. Though it did mean that the guards had to eat at the prisoner’s mess for now, and none of them were happy about it.

His thoughts on the matter faded away when he heard the German officer’s voice tell him to come in. Squaring his shoulders, Hogan took a deep breath and forced his stomach to settle down before opening the door and entering Klink’s quarters. The combination of twisting knots and butterflies wasn’t helping it any, and neither was the feeling of dread he had.

“Hey, _Kommandant_. You’re looking healthy enough, so I’m glad to see you’re not sick. We missed you at roll call,” he said with forced cheerfulness as he closed the door. Then Hogan waited for Klink to speak as he hung up his bomber jacket and crush cap.

Klink looked up as he heard the door open, frowning as his troublemaker stepped into the room. He’d had a very long and very unpleasant discussion with General Burkhalter earlier in the day, which hadn’t helped his mood any. The general had first asked if the report he’d received about the officer’s mess being blown up was some kind of a joke, since he found it hard to believe that it could have actually happened. _“Even knowing Colonel Hogan as I do,”_ Burkhalter had added.

After that, the fat general had proceeded to scream at Klink and make various threats including the Russian Front and a firing squad. Another creative one he hadn’t heard before had been a combination of a demotion to the rank of captain, a mandatory transfer to the Gestapo and a new job as Major Hochstetter’s underling!

The tall German shuddered at the last one. He disliked Hochstetter with every fiber of his being and the Gestapo in general. So the very idea of working with the man – and under him, since a major outranked a captain – had made him nauseous when he’d heard it. For once in his life though, Klink had been quick on his feet.

Hoping to head anything bad off at the pass, the German officer had offered to pay for the full cost of the building repair. There had been an uncomfortable silence, until Burkhalter had asked him in a surprised tone, _“Do you know how much that costs? That is six months’ salary on a colonel’s pay, Klink. Where are you going to get that kind of money? Unless I were to dock your pay, that is?”_

Getting his pay docked would hurt his lifestyle, such as it was. Yet it wasn’t completely impossible to do. Since he lived at Stalag 13 full time as the _Kommandant_ , all his expenses were covered anyway. The only thing he needed money for was if he wanted to go into town and pick up a woman.

Reasoning that he needed to be alive to do that though, Klink had stupidly stuck his foot in his mouth by replying, _“Herr General, you can keep all of my pay until the building is paid off. As long as I remain in command where I am and I remain a full colonel, I do not care. Well…I do not care that much.”_ Fortunately, Burkhalter had agreed to that and they’d hung up.

At least he was still in command of his post at Stalag 13! The lack of going to town for a long time bothered him, but he would adapt to it in time. Just like he would see to it that his troublemaker got what he deserved for this! “Colonel Hogan, get over here and be quick about it,” Klink ordered. “I trust you got my note and read it?”

He’d taped it so Schultz couldn’t be nosy, and after he’d sent his Sergeant of the Guard off with it he’d gotten the phone call. After the call though, Klink had thought long and hard about how to proceed tonight before settling on an idea. He recalled the past spankings he’d doled out to his unruly troublemaker and they had given him a plan, which made him smile evilly as he thought about it. “When you come over here, remove your trousers and get over my lap.”

“Yeah, I did,” replied the American as he made his way over to Klink. He wasn’t liking the start to tonight’s events at all, and the evil grin Klink wore just confirmed that those feelings were correct. “Schultz said something about chess? That was a good code, sir,” he complemented the older man, trying in vain to lessen what he knew was coming as he reached the couch.

The senior POW officer’s hands shook slightly as he followed the directions given to him for once. After he had removed his uniform pants and folded them, he set them on the coffee table before doing as he was told and placing himself over Klink’s lap.

“ _Danke_ , Hogan. I thought it was.” Klink waited for Hogan to get himself into position before continuing. “If you read the note, then tell me why you are in trouble tonight. And no games! Burkhalter called me today, and to say I am in a bad mood would be an understatement,” he finished.

Hogan sighed before reciting why he was here, as if it was a script he’d memorized. “I’m here because Sergeant Carter blew up the officer’s mess, and I’m responsible for all the POWs in this camp as the senior POW officer. I think I’ve grasped that concept,” he complained. “So what’d Burkhalter want?”

Klink rested his hand on Hogan’s butt before speaking, feeling the younger man flinch slightly at the contact. The involuntary movement made him smile slightly as he spoke. “Oh, the usual,” he said conversationally, as if he was discussing the weather. “You are a _dummkopf_ this, how could any of your **prisoners** manage to blow up **anything** that…you know, the normal things.” His voice tightened, which made his troublemaker wince. “But do you know what the real nail in the coffin was for me, Hogan?”

“No, but I get the feeling I’m about to find out,” replied Hogan sadly. The casual tone of voice didn’t fool him, because he knew from experience that this was just the calm before the storm. _And I wish I didn’t **have** that experience!_ he thought.

“Burkhalter decided to suspend my **entire** paycheck for the next six months until that building is paid off!” Klink spat. “He is hitting me right in the wallet, which means for the next six months I am stuck **here!** I will have no money to go anywhere, and I have no desire to be a prisoner here.” Even though it’d technically been his idea, the lack of money he would soon have irked Klink in a big way.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken the job here if you don’t like prison life,” suggested Hogan before his mind fully registered what he’d just said. _Man, you really need to put on a muzzle or something before you come in here, Rob,_ said his common sense. _I agree,_ his conscience added. _The poor guy’s already going to be stuck here for the next six months with no way to go anywhere or see anyone, and you want to make him feel worse. At least **you** get to go outside the wire and meet people on missions sometimes!_

Hogan couldn’t even argue with either of the voices, because they were right and he knew it. His offhand comment had been thoughtless, and he knew that it was bound to set off his disciplinarian. After figuring that out, he shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable swats to start assaulting his rear end.

Klink had actually lifted the wooden ruler he’d stashed under the couch pillow to begin Hogan’s spanking when he remembered his plan. Slowly, he lowered his hand that held the ruler until it rested on top of Hogan’s bottom again. He took a deep breath and replied, “A nice try in antagonizing me ahead of time, Hogan. But it will not work. Would you like to know why?”

Surprised by both the lack of swats and Klink’s words, Hogan opened his eyes. “I’m not following you, _Kommandant_. What’s on your mind?” And he was being honest, something that was rare for him when dealing with the older man.

Taking that response as a ‘yes’, Klink decided to explain. “It is very simple, Hogan. I decided that I enjoyed having your cooperation during your punishment on a different occasion. You know, after Major Hochstetter and I caught Corporal Newkirk with the codebook in my office,” he clarified.

“So, I have decided that two things will happen from tonight on forward. The first one is that each time you are here, you will **ask** me politely to spank your naughty bottom.” Klink was grinning evilly again as he continued, knowing the American wasn’t going to like what he was hearing. “And the second one is that each time you are here, **you** will lower your own briefs. Thus, you will be baring your bottom for me to properly discipline. And then you will lie across my lap and submit to your spanking without a struggle.”

The words burst from Hogan’s mouth before he could stop them. “You’ve **got** to be kidding me!” he exclaimed as he turned his head so that he could see Klink’s face. The older man had that evil grin again, and Hogan sighed wearily, recalling something he’d been told before and parroting it back dutifully. “Never mind, I remember what you said before. ‘A German officer never jokes about such things. And we **always** keep our word.’ But c’mon now, Colonel Klink. Do you know how embarrassing that is? How that makes me feel?” he demanded.

“And do you know how it made **me** feel to have to make Burkhalter the offer I did like that?” Klink shot back. He informed his wayward brat of all the threats the fat general had made earlier, ending with the combination demotion/transfer/new boss one. “It was either do what I did or work under a man who would take sadistic glee in giving me the worst assignments he could possibly find! That irritable man already acts as if he outranks me, and I do not wish him to actually do so.”

The tall German’s slender fingers grasped the ruler tightly. “And on top of all that, the last time your corporal did something foolish, **I** had to agree to go on a date with _Frau_ Linkmeyer to keep him happy! There are only so many ways I can appease Burkhalter before it can no longer be done, Hogan.”

Hogan’s eyes widened at the variety and creativeness the Austrian general had used in his threats. The Russian Front one was old news, as was the firing squad one. But some of the others he hadn’t heard before, and the Gestapo one was definitely new. “I have to give Burkhalter credit, those are pretty creative. How do you shoot someone **and** send them to the Russian Front? Seems kind of counterproductive to me,” he said thoughtfully.

Throwing up his hands in frustration, Klink snarled, “How should I know? You expect me to understand how a general’s mind works?” It took all of his self-control to keep from beginning the punishment right then and there! “I have no wish to find out firsthand, and I do not appreciate your sense of humor, troublemaker!”

Sometimes Hogan wished that he wasn’t such a smartass, because it tended to get him in trouble when he said things. A fine example was the “Well, yeah. Hasn’t making general been your goal for the last two decades?” that fell from his lips. And the “If that’s the case, you really ought to know how one’s mind works, sir!” that followed it wasn’t helping, as evidenced by the loud groan his common sense made inside his mind.

“Do you think the general was serious, though? He’s said stuff like that to you so many times, it should be his new mantra,” Hogan added.

Klink let out a low growl, a sure sign that the American officer was pushing him too far. “I am sure he was, Hogan. At the moment, Hochstetter and I seem to be tied for whom he hates the most.”

The older officer tapped the American one on his butt gently with the ruler, not a swat but merely a way to bring the conversation back on track. “In any event, do you understand the instructions you have been given by me? How things are going to happen from now on?”

“Oh, I understood you just fine, _Kommandant_ ,” griped Hogan. “You were speaking English, and even if you weren’t, I **do** speak German,” he reminded the older man. “But I don’t like these new terms one bit.” The power trip the German seemed to be on galled him to no end. It was bad enough that he had to be here at all, but to be subjected to the indignity of those conditions as well? It just wasn’t fair!

 _Life’s not fair, Rob,_ the American’s inner voice that was the voice of reason said. _It’s not fair that you got shot down and are a prisoner of war, stuck in Germany. It’s not fair that Klink’s vision is forever damaged from being shot down in this war as well, making it so he can never fly a plane again. Hell, the war itself isn’t fair! People are dying outside these wires every day, and you’re complaining about a little spanking?_ it snapped at him.

 _I don’t **want** any pain! I don’t **want** a spanking, _Hogan retorted silently, his inner five year old coming out to play. _Well, too bad. Nobody ever **wants** one, but you can handle the pain. It’ll pass soon enough, and meanwhile you’ve got the opportunity to show Klink that he can’t break you that easily with a little embarrassment, _his voice of reason snapped at him. _Yeah, grow up!_ his common sense added, joining the discussion.

 _If you’re going to be in command of this operation, either make it so you don’t cause Klink any problems or deal with the consequences. The last thing we need is Burkhalter getting fed up with everything weird that happens here and replacing him. Every POW here knows what it’s like when we get someone else in charge…the operation would be sunk._ Ugh! Hogan hated it when his inner monologue outmaneuvered him, especially when it made valid points.

While all of this was going on, Klink had taken the opportunity to best consider how to do Hogan’s punishment tonight. He had gone back and forth, debating whether he should use the belt or the ruler first. He knew he couldn’t do either for too long, since that would be far too severe. Finally, he decided on the ruler first.

It would serve as a good warm up for the American, and it would hopefully make the belt more effective as well. “I see. So you do not like these new conditions then, correct? Does that mean you like the rest of it perfectly fine?” Klink inquired teasingly. “As I have stated before, Hogan…if you feel you need this every day, or you if like it for some odd reason, then I –”

 **“NO!”** The word was shouted and seemed to echo in the silence. Hogan cleared his throat and said in a regular voice, “Sorry to interrupt you sir, but I thought I should clarify that right away. I don’t like any of this.”

“But you just said that you do not like the new terms, which means that you liked the old ones perfectly well,” said Klink reasonably.

Hogan put his hands over his face and groaned. “*Please don’t twist my words,” he said loud enough that he was able to be understood. “You know very well that’s not what I meant,” he said sullenly, crossing his arms in front of him. Since he was lying over Klink’s lap, the motion looked a bit awkward.

“I would never do such a thing,” replied the older man. His voice sounded so innocent that Hogan just had to look and see what sort of expression Klink had on his face to match that tone. He was glad that he’d looked, because the results he got were hilarious. On the Prussian colonel’s face was an expression that was the epidemy of innocence.

In that moment, Klink looked as if he’d never done a thing wrong in his life, which made Hogan laugh despite himself. “I think you’ve been spending waaay too much time around me if you can pull that off, _Kommandant_ ,” he said with a laugh.

“Indeed I have, my little brat,” Klink said, his thoughts returning to the reason why the younger man was here. “Just so there is no confusion later on, let me lay out the plan for your spanking tonight. And before you get all huffy with me, you should know what you are about to hear came about after I had calmed down. If you had ignored my note earlier today, things would have been far worse for your bottom. So do keep that in mind,” he added.

‘Much worse’? Hogan didn’t like the sound of that. How bad was it going to be already that ignoring the note would have been ‘much worse’? _Might as well ask him, you’re going to anyway,_ said his common sense in a resigned tone.

“Excuse me sir, but could you tell me first what you originally had in mind? Not that I want you to ramp up my sp…punishment,” he added hastily, amending his choice of words and not wanting Klink to get the wrong idea in any way. “But just so I know what I managed to avoid. For…um…comparison purposes,” the American officer finished weakly. Damn, that excuse sounded lame even to his ears.

Klink smirked as his troublemaker once again avoided the childish word ‘spanking’ when he asked his question. It was obvious that the word was an unlimited fountain of embarrassment for Hogan, which he made a mental note of. “Since you asked so nicely, my brat, I believe I shall,” he replied. “Had you come into my office earlier today when you were expressly told not to do so, this is what would have happened. Keep in mind I mean everything I am about to say quite literally, all right?”

Hogan nodded, his mouth going dry at the turn this story was taking. _Remember, he’s telling you what **would** have happened. Not what **will** happen, _his inner voice reminded him. “I understand that. Go on, _Kommandant_.”

“First of all, I would have grabbed you by your ear, leading you over to the door that leads to my quarters. After I opened it, I would have drug you by your ear into my quarters and closed the door behind me once we were both inside. Then I would have marched you right into the guest bedroom, pulled down your trousers and briefs and positioned you on the bed on your stomach,” the tall German began to explain.

Klink was watching his brat’s face, wondering what his reaction would be. “After restraining you as I did before, I would have spanked you with my belt until I was sure you regretted what you had done. And after you had fully healed from that punishment, there would have been a second round the same way for your willful disobedience. So,” Klink finished with a smirk, “Is it not a good thing you listened to me for once?”

Unable to say anything right away, Hogan nodded his head. A look of horror came across his features as he contemplated the bullet he had dodged earlier. “Yes. Thank God you sent Schultz over when you did,” he croaked out, the vivid visual description playing in his head like a movie. “He found me as I was headed out to see you. I thought maybe you were sick when you didn’t appear at both roll calls.”

“I told Schultz last night he would be doing the roll calls today. I was so incredibly angry about what had happened, and I did not trust myself to even look at you until I had given myself a chance to calm down and be reasonable,” Klink said. “Which is why my note was so harsh. That brings me to what will be happening tonight.”

Hogan didn’t think anything could top what he’d just heard, so he nodded his agreement and quietly listened to Klink for the second time that evening.

“When I tell you to do so, you are to stand up and lower your briefs until your bottom is entirely bared,” began Klink. “After that, you will ask me to spank you, repeating the phrase I will tell you. And I suggest you remember that phrase!” he warned.

“After that is done, you will place yourself over my lap as you are now. Then I will begin your bare bottom spanking. I will be using a wooden ruler for half of it,” the older colonel stated.

Huffing in annoyance at this plan and feeling himself blush, the younger man listened to the _Kommandant_ speak. He didn’t like how this was going so far at all, and the fact that Klink had said ‘half’ caught his attention. “Half? So for the other half, you’re gonna use your hand?” Hogan asked, the hopeful note clear in his voice.

Klink shook his head, dashing that hope like a flame put under the water. “Hardly, my troublemaker. You are not that lucky. After that, you will get up off of my lap. We will head to the guest bedroom –”

“Oh no,” Hogan whispered, his stomach turning to lead. “Please, don’t tell me –”

“– and I will restrain you as I did before, on your stomach,” Klink said as if Hogan hadn’t spoken. “And then, the remainder of your spanking will be administered using my belt.”

“But…but I don’t **want** that!” the senior POW officer exclaimed, his eyes already watering somewhat as he recalled the level of pain that the belt caused. He knew from prior experience just how much that belt would leave him hurting afterwards, and on a freshly punished butt as well? It had been bad enough before **without** his rear end being tenderized first!

“Sir, please! Don’t punish me like that!” Hogan begged. “One implement or the other, but not both of them in the same night. Please, that’s gonna hurt so bad! Have a heart, _Kommandant_.”

Klink shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “I know it will, which is the whole point, Hogan. And I do have a heart, which is why the entire thing is not happening as I told you I had originally planned. So you should be grateful for that, brat.”

The tall German gently tapped Hogan’s butt again with the ruler. “Up you get, and lower your briefs enough so that your entire bottom is bare. It is time to begin the first part of your spanking.”

Sticking his lower lip out in a pout, the American slowly got to his feet. Not that he thought pouting would change anything at this point, but the hope was there. He increased his pout to the maximum level he could manage as he glared at his disciplinarian with a sulky look.

Reaching behind him, he slowly lowered his briefs until his butt was completely bare. The cool air rushed across the exposed skin and made it tingle. Unwilling to say a word at this point, Hogan covered his face with his hands as he blushed and waited for Klink to tell him whatever phrase he was going to tell him.

“Very good, my little brat!” said Klink encouragingly. He could tell his unruly brat was embarrassed, which was the whole point. “Now, remove your hands from your face and say the following: Colonel Klink, I have been a very naughty boy. Would you please spank my bare bottom for my disobedience?” He gave Hogan a curious look, fully expecting that mulish streak to kick in regarding to what he’d just said. So it was no surprise when he was proven correct within seconds.

His blush had barely faded away when Klink uttered those hated, embarrassing words. Well, Hogan wasn’t going to say it and Klink couldn’t make him! He didn’t care if the German officer spanked him, but he would not say those words. He just wouldn’t! His butt would be extremely sore, but that was going to happen anyway. At least if he refused to repeat the phrase, he’d still have his dignity. He felt his cheeks heat up as he shook his head. “You’re crazy if you think I’m saying that, sir.”

Klink had fully expected that reaction, so he was prepared. He gave his wayward troublemaker a warning look and repeated what he had just said before adding, “I suggest you listen to me, Hogan, or you will be a lot worse off.” His voice grew silky as he added, “I can always revert to my original plan, you know.”

Deciding at this point to let his inner five year old out – because his adult side sure wasn’t making any progress – Hogan shook his head defiantly. “I don’t wanna, and I’m not gonna! And you can’t make me.” Meanwhile, there was a war going on between the voices in his head.

His common sense pointed out that Hogan should just do it and get everything over with so he wouldn’t be in as much pain later on. But his voice of reason argued that he was going to be in a lot of pain irregardless, and it was the principle of the matter. Out of the two, Hogan agreed completely with his voice of reason.

“Robert Hogan,” snapped Klink irritably, bringing Hogan’s focus back to the situation at hand. “I am going to give you just one. More. Chance. After that, I will spank your insolent behind with my belt until you obey me! And then we will come back out here and try this again. It is your choice if you would like extra punishment tonight or not, but I highly advise that you cooperate with me.”

“You’re gonna sp…punish me with the belt later on anyway! That’s what you said before,” retorted Hogan. “It just means I’ll get part of it out of the way earlier.” He felt a new determination to stand firm on this issue.

Rolling his eyes, Klink said in an exasperated tone, “That is true, and I will be doing that later on. But did you not hear the word ‘extra’ in that last sentence? Extra means it would be on top of everything else. In other words, it would not count toward your spanking tonight. Basically, a…a bonus,” he finished, proud of remembering the English word. “So, what will it be? I do not have all night.”

 **Extra** punishment? That wasn’t on the American officer’s agenda to do tonight! As quickly as it had come, his newfound determination was washed away. _Easy come, easy go,_ he told himself sadly. Hogan was unwilling to look Klink in the eye if he had to do such a shameful thing, that was for sure. But he was also apparently going to having to say those mortifying words, so he looked over Klink’s head and said them.

“Colonel Klink, I have been a very naughty boy. Would you please spank my bare bottom for my disobedience?” Hogan’s voice was almost a whisper, but he’d said the phrase out loud anyhow. That should count for something, right?

Apparently not, or maybe Klink just felt like tormenting him tonight. “A good attempt, Hogan, but I could not hear you. You will enunciate clearly and loud enough so that I can hear you, and you will look me in the eye when you speak. Now, try that again.”

The tall German sat back and waited, a ‘nasty-happy’ grin playing across his lips. He was enjoying his brat’s humiliation immensely, feeling that it helped a little bit to rectify the loss of his paycheck for the next six months. “I’m waiting, Colonel Hogan.”

Wondering what deity hated him so much that they would subject him to this, Hogan looked Klink in the eyes. His brown eyes showed that he was very nervous, but also unhappy about everything. Yet Klink’s blue eyes showed satisfaction and annoyance.

Not wanting to have to say the awful phrase a third time, he said clearly, “Colonel Klink, I have been a very naughty boy. Would you please spank my bare bottom for my disobedience?” The American’s voice was pitched a little too loudly, so he almost shouted the words.

Nevertheless, he knew the German officer had heard him that time. “Was that loud enough for you, _Kommandant_?” Hogan asked sarcastically, trying to cover up his uneasiness.

“Yes, Hogan, though I do not appreciate your smart mouth. And yes, request granted,” Klink shot back just as sarcastically. “Get over my lap then.” He patted his thigh, just in case his unruly brat had forgotten where he was supposed to go.

Hogan saw the gesture and grimaced. _Like I could ever forget even if I tried,_ he thought glumly as he placed himself back into the hated position. “Now what?” he asked. He didn’t really want the answer to that, but he didn’t want to be here all night either. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see the first blow coming whenever it did.

**_ Making a new acquaintance… _ **

“Now, my little troublemaker, I show you what happens to people who blow things up in **my** camp! Since you think explosions and fires are so much fun, I shall light a fire in your bottom,” replied Klink shortly.

He picked up the ruler and smacked the bare target in front of him. **SMACK!** “How do you feel about a wooden ruler, Hogan?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know as he smacked Hogan’s bottom again. **SMACK!** “Is it better, worse or the same as the hairbrush?” Klink smacked it a third time, awaiting the American’s answer. **SMACK!**

“Ow!” Hogan said as he considered the question. “Ow!” The ruler was wooden and stung quite a bit, but in a different way. “I’d say they’re about – Ow! – the same, sir. They just affect different areas.” **SMACK!** “Ow!” he said as the ruler smacked his butt again.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Would you care to explain what you mean by that?” asked Klink causally, as if he did things like this all the time.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “How can they affect different areas when they have both been used to spank your bare bottom?” the German colonel wanted to know. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

 _Either my English skills are failing me, or my brat is not making any sense again,_ Klink thought. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OW, OW, OWW!” replied the American, not liking his current predicament at all. He sure didn’t appreciate having to explain this sort of thing to Klink while the older man was slowly building a fire in his tail. Still, he tried to do it anyway, since the alternate plan the German colonel had previously mentioned was worse than this.

“OWW! Well, a hairbrush – OWW, OWW!” – has a wider head, but not – OWW, OWW! – as long a range. But – OWWW! – ruler has a longer – OW, OWW! – range but hits a narrower – OW! – area,” Hogan explained, unable to believe he was even having this conversation. He blushed, and he was sure that the skin on his rear end was just as hot.

“I see,” said Klink as he stopped for a moment. The skin on Hogan’s bottom was a nice shade of pink, just a little bit past barely noticeable but enough to feel warm to the touch. He knew that much because he rested his hand on the tender skin and felt the warmth radiating off of it. He also felt his brat jerk in surprise.

Smiling to himself, the German colonel decided that if he wanted to use the belt he’d better stop now. “Alright. Up you get, young man,” he said, tapping Hogan’s butt with the ruler gently. The result was amusing as Hogan almost leaped to his feet in one fluid motion and began to rub his butt.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Klink warned him as he stood up too. “You do not get to rub the sting out, little brat.”

“But it hurts,” Hogan complained as he continued to rub his butt anyway.

“It is supposed to hurt, child!” Klink said sharply as he grabbed his troublemaker around the waist in order to pin his arms to his sides.

Since the American’s torso was facing his, that left his butt woefully unprotected. Then the older officer reached around and gave Hogan another quick seven swats to his bare bottom with the ruler while they both stood there. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OW, OWW, OW!” his wayward charge complained as Klink let go of him. “I’m not a child, and that was totally uncalled for,” he added as he pouted and crossed his arms. Hogan figured if he crossed his arms, he couldn’t rub his butt. That had hurt even more standing up, and he wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

“Right now, you are acting like a child. But go ahead, rub your bottom again and see what happens. I dare you,” Klink growled. “Just give me a reason, Hogan. I will have you back here for a continuation of this yet. So make my day.” He locked eyes with the American as his challenge was issued. The moment was broken when the younger colonel looked away.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Hogan grumbled in embarrassment. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Raising his eyebrows at the display of attitude, Klink shrugged. “You know the way to the guest bedroom.” He swatted Hogan’s butt with the ruler and watched him jump. **SMACK!** “So lead the way,” he ordered, giving his troublemaker three more quick swats in succession. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow, OW! I’m going, I’m going! Geez!” Hogan exclaimed, breaking into what was almost a run to get away from Klink and that ruler. That thing stung!

**_ A heartfelt talk… _ **

As Hogan entered the guest bedroom, he eyed it with dismay. He remembered the last time he’d been here after his hairbrush spanking and how hard it’d been to sleep. He was just grateful that they weren’t in Klink’s room again, since that was where his first belt spanking had taken place.

The senior POW officer had hoped that he’d never have to feel it again, but luck wasn’t on his side. It was either that, or he’d done something truly awful in a past life to deserve this. Either way, he knew he would regress into a well-spanked little boy shortly. To his chagrin, he always did.

“Well? Lie down on your stomach,” Klink snapped. “Do I have to instruct you on how to do **everything** tonight?” Another ‘nasty-happy’ smile appeared on his face as he pondered something out loud. “Hmmm…perhaps it is not simply that I am spanking you that is the problem, because I know I am using enough force. Perhaps I need to spank you every night before you go to bed,” he stated, watching Hogan’s face to see his reaction.

“That would ensure that you get a good night’s sleep **and** that you behave. I think you might actually need it, you know. I will keep your bottom warm and toasty for you. What do you think of that idea, troublemaker?” he asked the younger man. Klink was mostly messing with his charge, but Hogan didn’t have to know that.

The American colonel’s eyes widened in fear as he shook his head frantically. That was something he definitely did **not** need! He had enough problems sitting down now, so he enjoyed being able to do so comfortably when he could. He didn’t need his rear end ‘warm and toasty’ under any circumstances, and he sure didn’t need a spanking each night right before lights out!

“Please, don’t do that!” Hogan pleaded, utterly disgusted with how his voice sounded to his own ears. The well-spanked little boy was coming out to play ahead of time, it seemed. “I’m sorry, sir. Please, no!”

Klink motioned to the bed, pleased with the reaction and results his words had gotten. “Then get on –”

He cut himself off in surprise as his brat quickly flung himself onto the bed and placed his head onto a pillow. Hogan had even landed spread eagle, so he was already where he needed to be. _Impressive,_ the older colonel thought as he raised his eyebrows. _That was quite possibly the quickest I have ever seen Hogan cooperate with me!_

“Don’t spank me every night! I don’t want that, please don’t do it, sir! I’m here, I did what you said!” Hogan said in a desperate tone of voice as he motioned to his body and the bed he was lying on. His stomach felt like a lead weight was being tossed around inside of it. Combined with the dread he was feeling, he felt like he might faint.

The younger officer wouldn’t actually do it, of course. But the option had still made itself known. Obediently, he draped his limbs so that they formed an ‘X’ shape. That way, Klink could easily restrain him. And who knew, maybe it would make up for his earlier disobedience.

He knew the reason for the dread was because he knew exactly how the belt would feel, and his imagination wasn’t helping matters. It was creating images of horrific pain and other terrible things, and the throbbing his butt was doing from having received the ruler earlier was only giving it more ammunition. _Now I know where that old saying ‘Anticipation is half of the battle’ comes from,_ Hogan thought gloomily.

Sighing, Klink said nothing as he walked to the other side of the bed and tied Hogan’s left wrist. As he tied his left ankle, he saw the American colonel briefly lift his head to look over at him, only to quickly turn away. It was if he wanted to look and see what was happening, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Reaching his right ankle, he could feel the shaking of his wayward troublemaker’s body. It was possible Hogan was just moving his leg for whatever reason, but Klink doubted it. Finally he picked up Hogan’s right wrist and tied it. He could feel his brat’s hands shaking in fear, and it wasn’t being faked.

His brat was terrified of him, and that alone made Klink almost call off the punishment for tonight…almost. He didn’t want Hogan scared of him, he just wanted him to behave. Was that so hard for him to do? The tall German wasn’t asking Hogan to perform miracles, he just wanted him to be like any **normal** prisoner and listen to his jailer! But apparently, that was too much to ask of his senior POW officer.

After noticing this, Klink was glad he hadn’t gone with his original plan. He was also glad he hadn’t removed his belt first to place it by the younger man’s head before he restrained him. He had done that the last time as a type of mind game, but Hogan was already plenty wound up as it was.

So at this point, mind games weren’t needed. Klink was still plenty upset about the explosion and everything else related to that event, but he felt he ought to have a few words with his brat first. After removing his belt, he sat down in the nearby chair with a sigh.

What would be the best way to phrase what he had to say? “Robert,” Klink said out loud. When there was no answer except for an increased trembling, he leaned forward and gently ran the belt over Hogan’s bare bottom, trying get his attention. “Robert!” _Please tell me he did not faint…or fall asleep again!_

Hogan had been lost in thought as the tall German restrained him. After each limb was secured into place, his overactive imagination generated crazier and crazier thoughts. By the time his right wrist was restrained, his body was wound tighter than a spring. He could feel himself shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold. He might have trusted the _Kommandant_ , but that trust did nothing to quell the memories he had.

Hogan was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear his name called the first time, so the combination of hearing it shouted and feeling the hated leather caress his rear end made him jump in surprise. Being tied up, the jump was more of a sharp jerk. Out of nowhere, he choked out, “Sir, I’m sorry!”

He wasn’t crying, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t take that long tonight before he was. Carefully, he turned his head to see where Klink was. He didn’t want to see him swing the belt, but his curiosity would not be sated even now. Meanwhile, Hogan was trying to figure out two things. Why was Klink sitting in the chair, and why he was using his first name before all was said and done?

Seeing the reaction he got made it even more obvious to Klink that they needed to have a talk first. “If you are quite done with your panic attack,” he said dryly, “I believe we need to have a talk first.”

Gesturing to the ropes tying him down, he asked Hogan, “Would you like me to untie you for this conversation, or would you prefer to stay where you are?” Klink knew that if it was him, he’d want to stay right where he was. But everyone was different, so he asked the American colonel anyway.

With a violent shake of his head, Hogan replied, “I’ll stay here, if it’s all the same to you, _Kommandant_. I don’t think my nerves could take being let up, only to be tied down again.” His voice sounded meek, so he cleared his throat and closed his eyes, only to quickly open them again. He had hoped that not being able to see the belt would make things better, but instead the opposite was true.

In a stronger voice, he added, “My imagination is running wild right now, and…and I’m scared, sir.” Damnmit, his voice had started to tremble at the end of that sentence! It had been just fine until the last part of it, and Hogan felt disgusted at the cowardly streak that seemed to have appeared in him.

Klink nodded his acceptance of that decision, knowing he was the same way. Even though it shouldn’t by now, the fact that he and Hogan were so much alike amazed him. And it made him think about what would happen to him after the war. Would Hogan have him killed? The younger man had said he ‘took care of those he cared about’, and the tall German had felt like his brat was including him on that list. But was he really? Or was it just wishful thinking on Klink’s part?

 _Maybe Hogan will see fit to return every punishment I have doled out to him in kind._ The thought made the older man’s stomach clench. He knew firsthand what it felt like when someone did things just to be sadistic. **He** knew he wasn’t being sadistic, but he was also sure that Hogan didn’t see it that way.

God only knows the German colonel had felt like **his** father was the most sadistic bastard on the planet, despite his many claims of only ‘doling out much-needed discipline’. The similarities Klink was seeing between them were almost scary.

But those thoughts faded away as he closed his own eyes briefly at his brat’s admission, noting the tremble in Hogan’s voice toward the end of it. The American colonel was scared of him? _Wait, is Hogan scared of **me** or of his spanking? I should find out, _Klink decided.

That was the first step, and that way there would be no miscommunication! “Robert, what are you scared of?” he inquired in as gentle a tone as he could manage. Klink was still angry, but that was beginning to fade with the realization of how he must be coming across. “Talk to me, _bitte_.”

Oh boy. How was he supposed to voice his concerns without sounding like a complete wuss? _Well, there’s nothing left to lose,_ his mind reasoned. _You’re already here, your butt already hurts, and you’re already tied to the bed. Short of savagely beating you unconscious on purpose or killing you – two things you **know** Klink won’t do – there’s nothing else he can do other than spank you, _it added.

That was true enough, so Hogan said what was on his mind. “I’m sca –” He cut himself off as he tried to think what the best way would be to put this. “I’m scared of my spanking, sir. Like I said, my imagination is going crazy, and the mental images it’s conjuring up are horrific. I know they’re not real, and I know what’s going to happen won’t kill me or permanently injure me. I’ve been through this before, so I even know what to expect…unfortunately,” he said with a grimace. “But overall, the effect is just making me high-strung.”

He could hear Klink’s German accent grow thicker and wondered what was on his _Kommandant_ ’s mind, since Hogan already knew that to be a sign of strong emotion. “Can I ask what’s on your mind, sir? You seem slightly…tense,” he added, for lack of a better word.

Klink nodded, breathing a sigh of relief at his troublemaker’s words. Scared of him would have been extremely bad. But he could understand being scared of a spanking. That made a little bit of sense, at least. Not a lot, mind you, since this wasn’t the first one Hogan had received from him. “Why are you scared, other than your imagination running away with you? As you pointed out, we have done this before,” he said reasonably.

He had to smile at the thoughtfulness Hogan displayed. Even in his current predicament, his senior POW officer was worried about him. It was touching, but he had to wonder what gave it away. “And how do you know I am tense?” Klink asked, wondering if it was his body language or something else.

“Honestly? I can’t really pin down why, but it’s probably because before I only got…that thing,” Hogan replied, pointing to the belt but not wanting to say the words, “and that was it. But tonight, you…disciplined…me with the ruler first, and you said you were going to use that tonight too.” He was proud of the way he kept from huffing as he pointed to Klink’s belt again. “I think it’s just the fear of the unknown. I was pretty wrapped up in my thoughts, which is why I didn’t hear you earlier, sir. Sorry about that.”

Hogan gave Klink an apologetic lopsided smile as he spoke. “In answer to your question though, it’s your accent. It gets thicker the more emotional you get, no matter if it’s good emotion or bad. The last time I heard it that thick was that time you almost turned me over to Hochstetter,” he added with a grimace. “I understand you just fine normally, but that night I could barely do so. It was super thick,” he finished, uncertain of what this revelation might spark.

Stunned, Klink sat back in the chair. He felt his hand let go of the belt, which dropped to the floor. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Hogan refused to say the word ‘belt’, although at any other time he would have found that amusing.

Once again, his brat had surprised him on several counts. The first one was being honest about how he felt, which the German colonel hadn’t expected him to do. The second one was that Hogan had apologized to him, Klink, when he had nothing to apologize for. If anything, **he** should be the one apologizing to the American officer!

And lastly, he hadn’t known his accent did that. He supposed it was a good indicator of his mood, which explained a lot of previous events in his life now that he was aware of it. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be apologizing for scaring **you** ,” the older man finally said.

Hogan’s last words were still ringing in his head. “My accent truly gets thicker when I am more emotional?” Klink repeated, unable to truly grasp that fact. “Are you sure you are not just imagining things, Robert?”

“Very sure,” replied his brat confidently. “I’ve heard it happen when you got excited about a date in town, and I’ve heard it happen at least three different times since we started this arrangement. And sometimes when you’re particularly happy or mad about something, you lapse into German,” Hogan added.

“I don’t know if you get so wound up you forget the English word for stuff or what, but either way it’s pretty cool. I like hearing you speak German,” the American said with an awkward shrug. “I’d be happier if you were doing it because you were happy and not mad, but –”

“Hold on just a moment,” the tall German interrupted, holding up a slender hand for silence as he digested this. “You… **enjoy** hearing me speak my native tongue?” he questioned, sure he hadn’t heard that right. “Why?” _Why indeed,_ his mind spoke up. _What kind of strange thing is that to enjoy? Sometimes, I just do not understand him._

The younger man considered the question thoughtfully. Why **did** he like hearing it? The more he thought about it, the clearer the answer became. “Well, like I said, you only lapse into it when you’re feeling strongly about something. Emotions, be they good or bad, are a wonderful thing at times. Before I was shot down, it wasn’t a language I heard every day. There are parts of the United States where people speak Spanish, but I’m nowhere near any of them.”

Hogan let a half-smile cross his face as he explained. “And German is a gruff language, but it also sounds sophisticated and flows beautifully if spoken correctly. It’s complex, yet simple if you can figure it out. Just like you,” he finished as cheerfully as he could manage. Hogan waited for his common sense and/or voice of reason to pop up with a smart remark, but they were oddly silent for a change.

With a heavy sigh, Klink massaged his temples. What was he supposed to say to that? His brat had just spoken the most poetic words he’d ever heard, and the scary thing was that they were dangerously accurate. “Robert, _was mache ich mit dir_?” he muttered, slipping into German out of habit. But as he watched the American’s eyes instantly light up, he had to smile.

His brat had been telling the truth! _Well, what do you know? You learn something new every day,_ he reasoned as he stood up. “You are serious right now? You really like hearing me speak my native tongue?” Somehow, Klink found that hard to believe, despite his brat’s earlier words. But the sudden light that appeared in Hogan’s eyes didn’t leave much room for misinterpretation!

 _“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant,”_ Hogan confirmed, a smile playing across his lips. “It’s kinda dumb to say, since you are a native speaker and all. But you speak German beautifully.”

Klink considered this for about half a second as he moved towards the bed. “Oh. _Danke,_ ” he said proudly.

“You’re welcome,” came the offhand reply. Hogan could see Klink reaching for the ropes that bound him and his hopes soared. “Um…what are you doing, sir?”

With a roll of his eyes, the German colonel replied, “Untying you. What does it look like?”

“Can I ask why? I’m not complaining or anything,” Hogan said hastily. “But you…that is…aren’t you…um…” He was grateful he’d managed to avoid the belt, but he had to know what miracle caused Klink’s sudden change of heart. His conscience would bug him until he found out, that much he already knew.

Klink froze, his hands inches from the first rope. He looked at his troublemaker in disbelief, wondering what had prompted **that** question! “I would think, Robert, that one in a position such as yourself would not look a gift horse in the mouth,” he said with surprise.

Hogan raised an eyebrow as he replied, “I’m not. But I need to know why, just for my own piece of mind. You know how curious I am, sir.”

With that innocent statement, Klink had to sit back down before he fell down in shock. Tonight seemed to be the night for surprises, it seemed. Letting out a weary sigh, he addressed his unruly brat. “If you must know, I do not like the fact that I scared – no, terrified – you so badly, Robert. You were literally shaking, and I think if you had not been tied down you would have hit the ceiling when you felt the belt’s mere touch on your bottom. It made me notice similarities between myself and my father that were…er, unpleasant,” he said with a frown.

“Discipline is one thing, but sadistic abuse is another thing entirely. And I **refuse** to be sadistic!” the German officer added hotly, the subject an obvious sore spot with him.

Hogan nodded his head as Klink explained his reasons. He had kind of figured something along those lines already, since Klink had told him on other occasions that his father beat him. Just not in those exact words, though. And he had also stressed repeatedly that he didn’t want to cause any permanent damage, just dish out some punishment.

The senior POW officer sighed heavily as he made his decision, knowing he would regret it in a few minutes. But he also knew he couldn’t just take the opportunity to leave and leave the older man feeling like he’d somehow done something wrong.

If Klink really felt that strongly about not becoming his dad and wanted to do this anyway, that alone told Hogan that Klink felt this spanking was well-deserved. And Klink **had** sent Schultz over with that note earlier in the day to warn him!

The tall German had been nothing but honest with him since the beginning of all this. Now it was time to repay the favor, no matter how much he didn’t want to. It was a matter of honor, in Hogan’s mind. “Excuse me, Colonel Klink, but I have something I’d like to say before you untie me, if you’ve got a moment.”

“It seems I have nothing **but** moments. So, go ahead, Hogan,” Klink grumbled as he drummed the fingers of his left hand on his thigh. But the next words out of the younger officer’s mouth made him glad he was sitting down, because he went from sitting up straight to falling backward against the back of the chair. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Let me repeat what you just said, because I know for a fact I heard you incorrectly.”

The German colonel looked at the American one and spoke. “What I heard was this: you just told me to leave you tied up and…spank you **anyway** , following the edited plan I decided upon?” he questioned in disbelief. “Because it would make you feel bad if you left and thought **I** felt bad?”

Klink sat forward again and peered at Hogan, examining his pupils. “Hogan, were you drinking before you came here? Or are you on some type of drugs?” he demanded. “That is in no way a normal request!” How a prisoner would get either of those things when they were forbidden, he didn’t know. But he also knew that if anyone could get ahold of them, it was the young man tied to the bed.

“That’s what I said, sir,” answered Hogan with determination. He conceded that he was probably insane for saying what he had, but there was no turning back now. He could do this! “And no, I’m not on drugs. I don’t do any sort of drugs. I’m also stone-cold sober…unfortunately,” he added.

His butt throbbed as he talked, as if protesting his decision. “And I rarely drink anyway. Besides, it’s also my way of apologizing to you for earlier.”

Hogan gave Klink a short nod, as if finalizing a decision in his mind. “I was out of line with how I acted towards you earlier. Like you’ve stated before, you’re only out to provide discipline for me, not punish me just for laughs. To me, that means if you thought this was a good idea, then it was a good idea. I can’t say I like being embarrassed or being made to say any of that stuff, because I don’t,” he quickly clarified, “I just figure it’s part of whatever process you’re using to accomplish your goal. So now you know where I stand,” he finished, the stubborn glint beginning to appear in his eyes.

Klink sat there and listened, taking in what he was hearing. He could appreciate his troublemaker’s determined stance on this, but he just didn’t think he could do it tonight. He said as much to Hogan, who shook his head as the stubborn glint intensified.

“Look, we can do this one of two ways. You can either finish this now. If you do that, I’ll complain that my butt hurts for a little while, but I’ll know that we’re square and life will be good. **Or** you can untie me and tell me to leave, which I’ll do. But I’ll just harass and antagonize you repeatedly every day until you finish this, because my conscience isn’t going to leave me alone until this is settled,” the American stated.

Hogan smirked at this declaration, clearly enjoying the verbal web he had woven. “Overall, it’s the same end result. But the last one is a lot more work for both of us, and you know how I am when I want something,” he finished.

Taken aback by that announcement, Klink narrowed his eyes at his stubborn brat. “You are absolutely mad, do you know that?” he asked as he bent to pick up the belt from the floor. He hated how well Hogan knew him and how his mind worked!

The German colonel let himself get a feel for the belt in his hands again as he whipped it through the air a few times, making sure to move it fast enough to make a whistling sound. He was giving Hogan one last chance to change his mind on this, which he hoped the younger colonel would take.

But Hogan ignored the whistling sound, even as it made him flinch. He could see what Klink was trying to do, and it wasn’t going to work this time. Just like his _Luftwaffe_ counterpart, he was like a dog with a piece of meat when he wanted something. “Well?” he all but demanded. “Just so you know, my butt already hurts from the ruler earlier, so this shouldn’t take too long.

 _Rob, what are you doing? Shut up while you’re ahead!_ his common sense screamed at him. Hogan blatantly ignored it as he continued. “But if you stop before that emotional release you always strive for happens, I’m gonna be mad. Because then all I’ll have to show for any of this is a sore butt and a headache from a stuffy nose, since it’ll be stuck between runny and normal. Just so you know,” he finished, his tone almost a happy one. _Yeah, you’re nuts, Rob. You’ve finally cracked. Have London send the men in white for you…I’m sure they have a nice room in an asylum for you somewhere,_ his common sense finally responded wearily.

**_ Greeting an old enemy… _ **

“ _Mmmmpf!_ You are one hundred percent insane, Hogan, and you will regret that attitude!” snapped Klink, his earlier feelings all but forgotten. He raised the belt and brought it down onto his brat’s rear end a few times. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “I swear, Hogan, you never know when to stop, do you?” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Having known what sort of pain to expect this time, the American colonel had buried his face in the pillow immediately after Klink had finished speaking. Which turned out to be a good thing, since the swats fell quickly and fiercely. The pain in his butt, which until now had been annoying but manageable, immediately increased threefold.

Hogan let out a scream that was high pitched enough to have broken glass if it hadn’t been muffled. “OWWW! OWW, OWW, OWWWWIE!” _Holy hell, this hurts so bad!_ he thought. _I told you so, dummy! What, did you think it would somehow feel better on an already sore behind?_ his voice of reason snapped. _Clearly, you enjoy pain! Or you’re just an idiot. Possibly both,_ it concluded.

Klink could hear the muffled scream and lowered the hand that held the belt. He might have still been upset, but there was nothing Hogan was going to say that would convince him to continue this. His brat, however, had other plans. Lifting his head, he had the nerve to glare at Klink for stopping. “Don’t stop now! We’ve come this far,” he said through gritted teeth. “Finish it, damnmit! I don’t want to have to do this again on a different day.”

“No,” replied Klink with a shake of his head, ignoring Hogan’s colorful language. “You have had enough, Robert.” He debated having Hogan evaluated by a psychiatrist, because the American had surely lost his mind. _He has been a prisoner of war for far too long…it is affecting his mind,_ the German officer thought.

But the younger colonel was persistent in his request, shaking his head violently. “Finish…it,” he ground out, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. It was taking a lot of effort to speak, but he found a reserve of strength he didn’t even know he had and pushed on. He hadn’t come this far and gone through all of this to have his disciplinarian back out now. And he’d be damned if he was going to repeat all of this again on a different day just because Klink was a wuss!

Besides that, Hogan knew the older man needed the sense of completion as much as he did. They were too much alike, with both of them being people who saw things through to the end. He didn’t know why it bothered Klink so much anyway. It wasn’t like it was **his** bare butt being thoroughly roasted!

To leave this unfinished now would bother both of them in the long run, and the American officer knew it. And unfortunately, he enjoyed the absolute bliss of ‘surrendering to his emotions’. Whether he wanted to consciously admit it or not, and even if the path to get there royally sucked. As the commanding officer of every prisoner here, he carried a lot of weight on his shoulders. That weight affected his mood at times and being perfectly in control around everyone all the time was stressful.

Hogan knew Klink had the same problem, because they’d discussed such things before. He couldn’t speak for certain on behalf of the _Luftwaffe_ colonel, but he had a feeling that the power Klink welded over him during these ‘discussions’ gave him the same type of emotional surrender. Even if he expressed or experienced it differently, it still counted.

And so Hogan did what he did best with the tall German: he pushed Klink’s buttons. After three years at Stalag 13 and having conversations daily with the older man, he knew exactly what to say and what to do if he wanted a fast reaction. “Not long…now before a…release. You…said I’d…regret my…attitude,” Hogan said with a lot of effort. “Are you…a liar? Or…just a…coward?” Even though he was in tremendous pain, he was able to summon a taunting smirk.

Klink growled as the younger man taunted him. If there was something he **wasn’t** , it was a liar! He could admit he’d been slightly cowardly at times, but that thought never left the deep recesses of his mind. However, he prided himself on not being a liar.

So to be accused of such a thing when he was trying to spare his unruly brat some punishment was more than he could handle at the moment. _Damn him! Damn Hogan for even **thinking** that! _Klink thought furiously. Of all people, he thought surely Hogan would know him better than that! Obviously not.

If his troublemaker was going to insist on running his mouth and begging for trouble, Klink would give it to him! Hogan had been warned, and the German colonel had tried to spare him. That was all he could do, because he knew how the younger man operated. With another growl of frustration, he snapped, “You have been warned, you little brat!”

Realizing he still held the belt loosely in his hand, Klink gripped it tightly and smacked Hogan’s insolent behind with it several more times. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWWW, OWWWW!” Hogan complained, definitely feeling the fire Klink was lighting in his tail turned up to full force now. Yet even as he tried to let the release just wash over him, he found that it wouldn’t come. He supposed that meant that he’d been telling the truth when he’d told Klink that he just wasn’t hardwired to let things go easily. _Which can definitely suck at times,_ Hogan thought sullenly. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWW, OWWWWW, OWW!”

“You just never learn, do you?! You always have to take it too far!” Klink yelled, half in frustration with Hogan and half in frustration with himself for being so easily played. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWW! OWWW, OWWW, OWWWWWWIE!” cried Hogan. The lava was back again, and it had arrived quicker than it usually did. Of course, usually he wasn’t already well tenderized by a ruler beforehand!

A mental image of a butcher beating a steak to tenderize it popped into his head as a comparison, and it would have made him laugh if he hadn’t been hurting so badly. But he could feel that he was near that tipping point of no return. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWWIE!” _I just have to push Klink a little further,_ the American thought. At the same time, his common sense was shouting various threats at him, along with his voice of reason chiming in with colorful metaphors. And adding to the commotion was his conscience cheering him on, making for a very noisy time inside his head.

Before he could give what to say much thought, his mouth formed the words for him all on their own. “That…all you got?” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut so the salty tears wouldn’t burn them.

Klink was beyond frustrated with this whole thing. He didn’t know what game the younger man was playing, and he didn’t really care. But the one thing he did know how to do was cause the emotional release his obviously deranged brat wanted!

Switching his aim from the senior POW officer’s buttcheeks, Klink rapidly swatted Hogan’s sit spots with the belt. Each one received six swats, and he alternated between left and right on each swat. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OW, OWWWW, OWWWWWIE, OWWWWWW!” Hogan wailed as the emotional dam finally broke. He was exhausted from his efforts and his rear end throbbed angerly, but he had gotten the release that he’d become addicted to. Thankful for that at least, he relaxed and let it wash over him.

The American colonel was so caught up in the oddly soothing relief of letting everything go, he rode the waves like a surfer in the ocean. And not once did he wonder what had possessed him to provoke Klink that way. He just let himself sob and cry out his frustrations with the war, hoping that somewhere along the line, the older man had found something similar in all of this tonight.

**_ The recovery… _ **

Dropping the belt on the floor, Klink quickly undid the ropes holding Hogan in place. Then he sat next to the thoroughly chastised brat and began rubbing soothing circles on his back. “So, are you happy now Robert?” Klink asked wryly.

He didn’t appreciate being manipulated, but he couldn’t deny that he felt immensely better now that they had settled this. His senior POW officer had been right about that, it seemed. The question was, did Hogan feel better as well? Or was he regretting his rash words earlier?

“Nev –” Hogan hiccupped and held up one finger, the universal sign to give him a moment. After a few shaky breaths, he nodded wearily. “Never better, sir,” he managed with half a smile.

Klink eyed him suspiciously, trying to decide if he was being lied to or not. Unfortunately, he’d never been much good at reading body language or facial expressions, which was something that had gotten him into trouble a few times in his military career. “Are you just saying that, Robert? Or are you being serious?” he demanded.

“Do I – owww – look like I’m kidding?” the younger man said snarkily after a few minutes had passed. Hogan had stayed on his stomach but shifted his position slightly, which was what had caused the ‘owww’. “I’m being serious for once. I feel great, or as great as I can with my butt having been toasted all the way up to the charcoal setting.”

Hogan shrugged as if it were no big deal and rolled his eyes. “Admit it, you do too,” he added, winking at Klink impishly.

“I do, actually….look, that is not the point!” the tall German said, seeing the impish wink and glaring at his unruly troublemaker. “I think you need to see a psychiatrist. There is a good one in Hammelburg, I am told. Maybe he can figure out what is wrong with you.”

Not that Klink knew exactly what he was supposed to do if Hogan was suffering a mental breakdown from being a prisoner of war, mind you. It’s not like he could just have Hogan sent back to the United States!

How exactly was he supposed to explain that to anyone? _Maybe I can say it is a foreign prisoner exchange program of some sort,_ Klink thought with amusement. _One of theirs for one of ours!_ That was actually a good idea, now that he thought about it. But unfortunately, both General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter were well aware of how Hogan both looked and sounded.

Which meant Klink couldn’t just pass another prisoner off as the American colonel, even if he wanted to. Was he just supposed to call the Allied High Command somehow and request a special pickup? “And that ‘charcoal setting’ as you put it, is your own fault. You literally begged me for it, so do not complain about it now.”

“Who’s complaining? I’m just stating the facts, and the facts are that my butt is probably super swollen and bruised if I had my guess. Would you mind confirming or denying those two things?” the American requested in an unusually polite tone.

“Of course,” said Klink agreeably, slapping himself mentally for not checking on that before. He leaned over and let out a low whistle. “Well, I am surprised. That is not what I expected at all.”

Hearing the whistle, Hogan winced. Somehow, he didn’t think that was a good sign. “What? What is it?” he demanded. “How bad are the bruises? How badly is my butt swollen?”

“There are none,” explained Klink. “That is why I was so surprised. The skin of your bottom is a dark red, but it is not bruised in any way. Although you may want to sleep on your stomach and do everything standing up for the next few days,” he teased, thoroughly enjoying the sullen look and pout he got in return.

Things were getting back to normal, or as normal as they ever were in his camp. “In addition to that, your bottom is only somewhat swollen. I expect it should go down within the next twenty-four hours,” Klink added.

“I’ve been doing both of those things on a regular basis for almost a year now, so that’s nothing new,” said his well-spanked brat with a loud huff of annoyance. “And by the way, _Kommandant_ , I don’t need a psychiatrist.”

Hogan sighed as he rolled his eyes and looked up at the German colonel. “It’s all your fault anyway. You’re the one who started this whole thing, talking about ‘surrendering to my emotions’ and stuff. Against my will each time, I might add.”

Hogan frowned as he explained to Klink what he thought had been obvious. And then after you get me used to experiencing that feeling on occasion, you have the nerve to get upset when I **want** to experience it and you won’t provide it!” he said indignantly. “So make up your mind, sir. That’s not very nice to do to somebody, after all,” he said with another pout.

 _Well, so much for things returning to normal!_ Klink closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he opened his eyes. His hope had been that when he did so, reality would have sorted itself out. But he was sadly mistaken in that hope, because Hogan was still there and still sassing him! Placing one hand on his forehead, he ignored Hogan’s witty comments and replied, “I think I should try and get ahold of the Allied High Command about you, Robert. I really do.”

“You’re going to call the Allied High Command?” asked Hogan in disbelief. “From Germany?” He shook his head at the outrageous idea. “I didn’t know you had their phone number, and talk about a long distance call! And just what are you going to tell them?” This he had to hear!

Klink stuck out his thumb and pinky finger, miming picking up a phone. He held it to his ear and said, “Hello, is this the Allied High Command? It is? _Wunderbar._ My name is Wilhelm Klink, and I am the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13 in Germany. It is…what? Yes, that is correct, a prisoner of war camp. I have one of your pilots here, a Colonel Robert Hogan. I…what? Yes, that is the one. Anyway, can you come and get him? I believe he is suffering a mental breakdown from being a prisoner of war here, and…what? How do I know that? I shall let him tell you himself, and…what? You will send a plane in the next two hours? Excellent. I also have a Corporal Peter Newkirk of the Royal Air Force here, so if you could just….what? There will be room for him as well? That is wonderful news. I will let them know. _Auf Wiedersehen_ and heil Hitler….what? Oh, I do apologize. I meant to say ‘Cheerio’ instead, my mistake. Good day to you, sir.” As he said ‘cheerio’, Klink imitated a British accent before hanging up the imaginary phone. He gave his wayward brat a curious look, trying to gage his reaction to that ridiculous scenario.

Hogan burst out laughing, wiping more tears from his eyes. But this time, they were ones of laughter. “That’s great!” he remarked. “Do me a favor and do that bit for Newkirk some time, will you?”

The younger officer laughed some more, the joyful sound a nice change from his previous cries of pain. “I didn’t know you could do comedy, Colonel Klink! And while you do a pretty good British accent, I still like your natural German one better.”

“Neither did I until you mentioned it, Robert,” replied Klink dryly, secretly pleased that his brat found him entertaining. It made him smile when Hogan mentioned his German accent again, because it confirmed that what he’d said earlier on the subject was true. “And thank you,” he added as he gave his brat a warning glance.

“By the way, I want to be absolutely clear, Robert. If you **ever** try a stunt like that with me again, I will not play into your hands. What I **will** do, however, is put the idea of warming up your insolent behind each night before you go to sleep into practice. And it will effective that very day!” Klink shook his finger at his troublemaker in warning. “Do you understand me, little brat?”

“Perfectly, sir,” the American officer managed to respond with a straight face. He knew there was only a fifty percent chance that the tall German was messing with him, so he decided to play it safe. He tapped Klink’s thigh to get his attention and waited until he had it before inquiring, “Can you move, please? I need to get dressed.”

“Get dressed?” Klink repeated in confusion. “Whatever for?” Just where did Hogan think he was going at this time of night?

Huffing and sounding slightly irritated, his brat replied, “Because I’m not going to walk across the camp in only my underwear at,” he checked his watch, “23:45 hours, maybe?” (11:45pm)

“What are you….oh no!” Klink admonished, shaking his head and waggling a finger as he figured out just where Hogan thought he was going. “You are not going back to your barracks tonight, if that is what you are thinking. You can hang that idea up right now, young man. I will not have it!” He crossed his arms and glared at his stubborn charge, not budging from where he was at.

“Why?” inquired Hogan reasonably. “You said it yourself, I’m not even bruised. And as much as I enjoy the soft bed here, I’ve stayed the night twice already. My men will get suspicious if I don’t come back, and there’s only so many times that chess game excuse is going to work.”

Klink opened his mouth, only to close it again. Hogan made some valid points, and he knew it. Yet he didn’t want to see Hogan leave tonight, damn it! He wanted to be sure the younger man got a good night’s sleep after everything that had happened tonight. _And you like knowing that you have some company…that you’re not alone in here too,_ his voice of reason said.

Not knowing what he could say that was just as valid, he opted for his backup plan. “Because I am the _Kommandant_ here, and what I say goes!” Klink said firmly. _Why must Hogan fight me on every little thing?_

“That’s true, sir. You **are** the _Kommandant_ here. I’m just the prisoner,” said his unruly charge.

Before Klink could congratulate him on seeing reason, he added, “And what do prisoners do? They escape! I’ve never made a successful escape from Stalag 13, so I figure escaping from here is a good start. Baby steps, you know,” Hogan added with a smirk.

 **“HOOO-GAAN!”** Klink exclaimed, shaking his fist in the air. “Even you cannot possibly be that foolish.” He raised his eyebrows as he gave the other colonel a curious look. “I hope.”

A cocky grin appeared on the American’s face as he stated, “Try me. I dare you. We’ve already established that the emotional release is something I apparently needed, and I’ve done it twice in one night before too. So the ball’s in your court, sir. Make my day.” He lifted his chin and stared defiantly at the older man, his gaze steady.

This time, it was Klink who looked away first. Recalling his same words from earlier that evening, he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Hogan was certainly a wild card, and his mulish streak seemed to have no bounds. “Alright. I will allow it just this one time,” he conceded.

“And I will indeed make your day, my little brat. I simply have to wait until the next time you land yourself in hot water! Which should not take long at all, and I do not forget such things,” the tall German added as he stood up. “Go ahead and leave, if you feel you must.”

“I look forward to it,” said his troublemaker haughtily, showing a confidence he didn’t feel. He just knew this would come back to bite him in the ass later, but for now it was enjoyable.

“Thank you, kind sir, for moving,” Hogan drawled, the sarcastic tone evident in his voice. “I don’t think I could have possibly managed to get up without you doing that.”

“Really?” Klink asked, his own voice dripping sarcasm. “Then allow me to assist you further.” He gave Hogan four quick swats on his still-bare bottom.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** They weren’t hard by any means. But they were still enough to elicit a pained yelp from the senior POW officer and a quick leap upward into a standing position.

“Ow, OW! Hey, what’d you do that for?” Hogan asked, turning so that his rear end was facing away from Klink and pulling up his briefs. The only problem with that was now he couldn’t reach his uniform pants, which presented a bit of a conundrum. Especially as the tall German grabbed them first.

Shrugging, the German officer replied, “I just wanted to see how fast you could move.”

As Hogan glared at him, Klink added, “Oh, were you looking for these?” teased Klink as he stepped back. The small movement put both him and Hogan’s trousers just out of the American officer’s reach.

“Hey, c’mon! Give those back!” said the younger colonel in annoyance as he walked around to Klink’s side of the bed. But Klink kept dodging him by moving in a circle. It ended up with him having his back to the bed and Hogan near the bedroom door.

“You want them, eh? Come and get them!” Klink taunted.

A mischievous gleam appeared in Hogan’s eyes. Then he replied, “Okay,” right before he pounced. Since he was already nearby the older man, it didn’t take much of a jump to tackle Klink. Not expecting such a move and caught off guard, Klink was knocked backward onto the bed.

His hands were above his head as well, yet he was still gripping the trousers. Hogan was laying on top of him, his arms effectively pinning Klink to the bed as a devious grin appeared on his face. “Now, give ‘em back.”

His saving grace was that Hogan was moving slower than normal because of a sore butt, so the German colonel was able to react quick enough to grab him. “No,” he replied with amusement in his voice.

In a swift movement, Klink dropped Hogan’s trousers to the floor behind him and rolled the American colonel over onto his back, using his arms to pin Hogan to the bed. He had temporarily forgotten that the younger officer’s rear end was hurting him, until Hogan said “Ow!” and let out a hiss of pain.

Hearing the strained sound, Klink immediately let go of Hogan and rolled off of him. “I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you any more discomfort,” he apologized. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride,” grumbled Hogan as he grabbed his uniform trousers off of the floor and put them on. “That was a cheap shot, by the way…taking advantage of my butt being sore. That’s not very nice,” he said with a huff as he finished buckling his belt.

An amused grin played over Klink’s lips. “But I still won,” he said smugly.

“How do you figure that? I got my trousers back,” Hogan pointed out.

“Only because I let you,” Klink teased.

“So…what? You really think you can beat me in a wrestling match? A fair one?” asked Hogan incredulously.

Scoffing, the tall German replied, “Beat you? Please, it would not even be a challenge. Remember, I used to wrestle with my older brother growing up, while you have told me previously that you have never wrestled before. Therefore, I have some experience. But if you would like to try it sometime, let me know. I am always happy to show you what a winner looks like. So go ahead and do it,” he challenged.

Grinning, Hogan replied, “Experience. That’s just another word for ‘old’. And the only way you’d get to see what a winner looks like, Colonel Klink, is if you stare at me all day,” the American officer teased.

“By the way, challenge accepted. Give me about a week to heal up all the way and I’ll wipe the floor with you,” the senior POW officer added.

Raising his eyebrows and smirking, Klink shot back, “I look forward to it.” He walked Hogan to the door and waited as he put on his bomber jacket and hat. “By the way, Hogan, you did very well tonight.”

He shrugged and added, “I did not think you had that kind of willpower in you, but my congratulations. You surprise me yet again,” he finished as he gave the younger officer a hug. Klink was still happy from the emotional release he’d experienced on his end, and in addition their quick wrestling match had put him in a good mood.

“Thanks, and that’s me. I’m just full of surprises, sir,” Hogan deadpanned as he returned the hug. “And apparently, so are you.” He offered the older man a salute, which was returned. “I’ll be by later on after roll call to harass you…I mean, make your day more interesting. Whatever works for you, _Kommandant_ ,” he added with a smirk.

Rolling his eyes in mock annoyance, Klink replied, “How about a nice, peaceful day with no surprises? That would work very well for me.”

“I have to check the calendar, sir. The Escape Committee might be having a meeting today, but I can get them to reschedule,” Hogan replied cheekily.

“You do that. Now, off to bed with you, little troublemaker,” Klink said as he opened the door. “And here is something to help you sleep tonight.”

As he said that, Klink gave the American officer two light swats on his butt. **SMACK! SMACK!**

“Ow! Good night, _Kommandant_ ,” said Hogan hastily as he exited Klink’s quarters.

“Good night, Hogan,” replied Klink, sounding amused. A smile was on his face as he closed the door, his mind already on what he had to do the next day. If nothing else, he could count on his brat to keep him on his toes!


	7. A Hollow Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergeant Kinchloe turns out to be the better boxer in a boxing match between him and the German guard known as ‘Battling Bruno’. But Colonel Klink isn’t too thrilled about Kinch and his superior fighting skills.
> 
> Instead, he gets yelled at (yet again) by General Burkhalter. Apparently, Burkhalter had listened to Klink’s bragging about Bruno, so he wagered a lot of money on him to win. And as we all know, when Burkhalter’s not happy, neither is Klink!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _   
> _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Was machst du hier?_ = What are you doing here?  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Reichsmarks_ = The currency of Nazi Germany. (It was discontinued in 1948.)  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Frauen_ = Women  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for ‘ _Stammlager_ ’, which is short for ‘ _Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager_ ’. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Was ist in deinem Kopf los,_ Robert? = What is going on inside your head, Robert?  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Kommandanten =_ Commanders

**_ 1900 hours, Klink's quarters… _ **

Okay, he could admit it. Making sure Kinch knocked out the German guard ‘Battling Bruno’ and embarrassed Klink in front of General Burkhalter hadn’t been the smartest move on his part, at least not in the long run. For him, anyway. As Colonel Hogan stood on the front porch of the _Kommandant_ ’s quarters and prepared to knock on the door, he questioned if he should even bring the matter up. _On one hand, it’s possible that Klink won’t consider the bet Burkhalter lost my fault in any way. I might just be causing unnecessary problems for myself,_ his common sense said.

A shiver rippled through the American colonel as he recalled all but demanding Klink to spank him the last time he’d been here, the memory causing him to blush. _I must be nuts. Maybe I really do need that psychiatrist,_ he thought. _Rob, the fact that you’re nuts was established a long time ago,_ his snarky inner voice said. Sometimes that inner voice of his was severely unhelpful, Hogan decided.

 _But on the other hand, Colonel Klink will just send for me tomorrow at some point if I don’t talk to him now. And this way, I can head everything off at the pass. Maybe he’ll even let it go and not spank me for once!_ Despite everything, there was a part of him that always remained optimistic in this regard. Tonight, it seemed like that part fell to his voice of reason. Besides that, he was addicted to the emotional release that resulted from the spankings the tall German administered. He hadn’t liked that feeling **at all** initially, but now it was like a drug.

Like a junkie, he couldn’t get enough of it. And although that idea should have sacred him, it didn’t. For some reason, he’d come to trust Klink with his physical well-being when they were having these ‘discussions’. In turn, Klink had seemed to become more protective of him then he’d been before. He’d always had a backbone when it came to protecting his prisoners, which was the one quality Hogan could admit that he sincerely appreciated. But ever since this arrangement of theirs had started, he half expected to see the older man hovering over him like a mother hen sometimes.

 _God help me if I get sick,_ he thought as he shook his head in amusement. _I’ll probably find myself being force-fed chicken noodle soup and temporarily confined to the guest bedroom in Klink’s quarters!_ That type of situation would be highly annoying, as the senior POW officer was a man of action, and such a thing would cause him to be bored out of his mind. Even so, the thought still made him smile.

After much internal debate, the optimistic part of him finally won out as Hogan knocked on the door. He’d been ready to head over here anyway when the idea of nipping this in the bud occurred to him, and he liked to be efficient with his time. God only knew London was running him and his men ragged as the war’s end approached. The Allies were already on the outskirts of Germany, which meant that the liberation of Stalag 13 couldn’t be that far behind.

Yet the American officer sometimes found himself doubting if he wanted to leave Germany right away. He’d heard it was a beautiful country, with centuries of culture and lots of things to see. Still, being shot down and imprisoned didn’t leave much time for playing tourist!

Even when he was out on missions with his team, they were always pressed for time and high-strung to boot. _Maybe Klink can show me some of the sights after the war,_ Hogan pondered, wondering what the answer to that question would be if he dared to ask it. _A native tour guide would be pretty cool, and I can keep **him** out of trouble!_

Hogan pushed those thoughts out of his mind for now as he remembered the other reason he was here. He’d been challenged to a wrestling match a while back by the German colonel, and of course he’d accepted. He would show Klink that experience wasn’t everything.

A smile played across his lips as he was told to enter, which he did. “Evening, _Kommandant_ ,” Hogan greeted as he gave a causal salute and shut the door behind him. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see me tonight, huh?” He hung up his crush cap and bomber jacket as he spoke. “Mind if I sit down, sir?” he asked.

“Hogan! Good evening, but… _was machst du hier?”_ asked Klink in surprise. “For that matter, how did you get past the guards? And what are you wearing?” he added, his brow furrowing in confusion. The younger colonel was out of uniform, having opted instead to wear an all-tan sweatsuit before he’d come over. Klink knew he hadn’t sent for Hogan, and after being chewed out by General Burkhalter earlier, he wasn’t overly happy right now.

Betting money on ‘Battling Bruno’ should have been a sure thing, as the _Luftwaffe_ guard was tall and built like a Tiger tank. But the man Bruno had been boxing was Sergeant Kinchloe. Seeing as Kinchloe was both an ex-Golden Gloves winner **and** one of Hogan’s close friends, Klink supposed he should have been expecting some tomfoolery to occur eventually.

 _Perhaps I should have told Burkhalter to bet on how long it would take my troublemaker to cause mischief instead,_ he thought wearily. _That would have been a far better bet!_ The older man knew why the Austrian general was tenser than normal lately, because the general himself had informed him of the reason for it. The Allied forces had reached Germany, which meant all was lost for the regime unless a miracle happened.

At this point in the war, it was a toss-up if the Americans or the Russians would reach the camp first. Klink dearly hoped it wasn’t the Russians, because he knew that would end badly for him and the men under his command. Americans might be a cocky bunch – at least, if his brat was any indication of a typical American – but at least they still seemed to understand the meaning of ‘civil’.

There was a reason why the Russian Front was such a dire threat, after all, and it wasn’t just because of the extremely cold weather! At any rate, his commanding officer had to deal with the brass more directly than he did, and Klink **knew** they weren’t happy about the way things were going. Realizing he’d been asked a question, Klink nodded and snapped, “Yes, yes. *Request granted, Hogan. Sit down and answer my questions.”

“Well, you’re touchy tonight, _Kommandant_ ,” his troublemaker replied, even as his face lit up from hearing the German phrase. He hadn’t been lying before when he said he liked hearing Klink speak the rough-sounding language, but the tall German seemed a little cranky this evening. Well, he would fix that soon, Or hopefully he would, anyway. Taking a seat next to his self-appointed disciplinarian on the sofa, he answered the questions he’d been asked.

“First of all, sir, the guards are used to seeing me coming and going at all hours of the night. I’ve had to come here at odd hours before to let you know there was a problem, and they know it. As long as it’s only me out and about, and I’m not running wherever I happen to be going, they’re not too worried about it,” Hogan said cheerfully. “That’s why I had to drag Schultzie along the night my men had that argument. I was sprinting and I didn’t want anybody to get the wrong idea.”

Pausing for breath, he added, “Second of all, this is the newest in camouflage wear. Do you like it?” Hogan asked innocently as he motioned to his sweatsuit, knowing full well he was baiting Klink and not caring. “It’s a pretty simple concept. I just have to lie down in the dirt and stay still until the gates open. The tan color blends in with it perfectly, you know. Then after the gates open, I just pop up off the ground and slip out. Boom, instant escape,” he finished with a smirk.

 _Either I’m gonna piss Klink off and we’ll handle business now, or we’ll have the wrestling match first – which he’s gonna lose at, since there’s no way he can outmuscle me – and **then** we’ll handle business. Any way you slice it, he’ll be cheered up and not grumpy!_ Hogan thought.

While he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of his guards letting the wily American wander around wherever and **whenever** he pleased, the German officer had to admit Hogan’s tendency to butt into things had come in handy more than once. _And when has Hogan ever behaved as a proper prisoner should anyhow?_ Klink asked himself.

He couldn’t recall a time when that had ever been the case, which was the whole problem! In addition to that, he wasn’t in the best mood at the moment. Therefore, Hogan’s jokes and his off-the-wall American sense of humor weren’t all that funny to him. “I am not amused, Colonel Hogan. Now tell me the **real** reason you are wearing a sweatsuit and not your uniform,” Klink responded.

“While you are at it, kindly inform me what brings you by tonight. I am sure it is not because you are lonely,” he deadpanned. In his mind, Hogan had some nerve. Burkhalter had literally left Stalag 13 just minutes before, and he hadn’t even had a chance to pour himself a drink yet! Even so, Klink began to perk up somewhat after seeing the younger man’s face light up at his greeting. _My troublemaker is an oddball,_ he decided. To Klink’s surprise, he found that the thought was an affectionate one.

Crossing his arms and huffing, Hogan said, “Well, **that’s** a fine attitude! I come here intending to handle business and respond to the challenge you made to me, and this is the thanks I get? Rude!” he said indignantly. “I thought maybe I could cheer you up, since I just saw Burkhalter leave. He was here pretty late if he was present for evening roll call. Or maybe he just wanted to stay for dinner,” he added thoughtfully, a smile crossing his features. “I can clearly see that he enjoys food. But every time the general or our friendly neighborhood Gestapo visit you here at our wonderful country club, you always wind up moody for a few days.”

He glanced at Klink, his expression on his face unreadable. “I don’t like seeing you moody, sir. We’ve got a saying in the United States…when mom’s not happy, **nobody’s** happy. In this case it’s more like, ‘When the _Kommandant_ ’s not happy, **nobody’s** happy.’ I like it when you’re happy, Colonel Klink. It makes me smile to see you smile, and I enjoy smiling. So everything works out! Plus, a good mood makes things go so much easier for everyone here…just ask any of the guards,” he finished.

With a sigh, Klink attempted to follow the conversation the younger colonel was having with him. But he wasn’t having much success with it…as usual, Hogan seemed to be weaving an intricate verbal web. “This is not a country club, Hogan! And as you have already stated, General Burkhalter has just left. He had quite a bit to say about his lost wager, of which I have had to listen to him complain about for the last hour. So I am not –” He cut himself off, not quite sure he was following this conversation correctly.

“You came here…to handle business? And cheer me up?” Klink asked in disbelief. “What business? And what even makes you think I need cheering up?” For some reason, his mood perked up a little more at those words. _My brat thought of me!_ It would be touching if he didn’t suspect that there was an underlying reason for it.

Though Klink admitted that he had much to learn about Americans and their strange sayings, he could see where that one might apply in this case. If he wasn’t happy, it tended to affect the entire camp…that much was true enough.

It just hadn’t occurred to Klink that anyone but him would notice that. He had gotten used to being ignored by everyone since World War Two had started. Initially he had been irritated about the situation, but lately it was a good thing indeed. Given the state of the war, it was far better presently to be ignored. Those who were thrust into the spotlight tended to end up dead, one way or the other.

And while he shouldn’t care if Hogan was happy or not – he was a prisoner of war, which he wasn’t **supposed** to be happy about – Klink found that he **did** care. The fact that his smiling and good mood could trigger the same things in his senior POW officer finished cheering him up. _Hogan is going to be the death of me one day from both stress and constant surprises. But it will be a fine way to go,_ the older man reasoned.

Nodding, the American colonel replied, “Yup. I figured after Burkhalter left, you’d be pretty sore. And that I would be too, eventually,” he said openly, not caring if he came across as brazen tonight. He still wasn’t overly thrilled with this whole arrangement. But if he **had** to do this, then he would do his best to keep some control over it.

And taking the incentive seemed to be the way to do just that. Hogan was a natural born leader, which meant he tended to be a bit of a control freak. Having things taken out of his hands didn’t sit well with him, and he disliked following orders – or even being told what to do – immensely.

“I already knew he was gonna yell at **somebody** about his lost _Reichsmarks_ , and you’re the only one he seems to yell at here. The thing is, the fact that he lost that bet was his own fault. I **told** him before the match started that Kinch had won the Golden Gloves trophy multiple times. How can he even be mad at you when he knew that ahead of time?” Hogan wondered aloud.

“It seems to me like the general was the real _dummkopf_ here, _Kommandant_.” Hogan finished. His choice to use the German term instead of its English equivalent was done on purpose, since he’d heard it said often enough and just liked the sound of it.

“Besides that, I believe you challenged me to a wrestling match the last time I was here, sir. And I’m not gonna risk ripping my uniform when I wipe the floor with you. Not that it’ll be too hard,” Hogan said with amusement in his voice. “But anyway, that’s actually why I’m wearing the sweatsuit.” Just as forewarned didn’t always mean forearmed, experience didn’t always mean you were better at something either!

Klink knew better than to go there with Hogan. He really did, because his senior POW officer had the art of double talk down to an exact science. Even so, he just had to ask the question that was on his mind. Curiosity was getting the better of him, and the older colonel was something of the curious type himself at times.

Choosing to ignore the disrespectful way the American colonel spoke of his commanding officer – mostly because Klink agreed with him, as he’d heard Hogan tell the general just that – he focused on the main thing that concerned him.

“So let me see if I understand you correctly, Hogan. You knew Burkhalter would be upset over a lost bet, which also means you somehow knew Sergeant Kinchloe would win that match. You all but said so when you told him the information that you did. And after that…you came here and sought me out?” Klink asked incredulously, certain he had his facts mixed up somewhere.

“Are you trying to tell me that you willingly sought me out – without anyone fetching you on my orders – to receive your spanking **tonight** , instead of waiting until tomorrow?” the German officer demanded, absolutely sure now that the younger man had lost his marbles.

“I reckon you’ve got the idea now, _Kommandant_ ,” Hogan drawled as he imitated what he figured a cowboy from the Old West would sound like. “And like I already said, you challenged me to a wrestling match. I came here in response to that challenge as well…and I intend to win it too,” he added with a cocky smirk. _At least Klink’s understanding what I’m telling him tonight. It gets annoying having to spell everything out in detail all the time,_ he thought as he rolled his eyes.

Well, that settled it. Hogan was certifiably insane. “It might have been easier, perhaps, to just make sure your sergeant did not win the boxing match against Bruno, hmmm?” inquired Klink somewhat sarcastically. “Despite how amusing you might find it, I do not enjoy being screamed at, you troublemaker.”

Hogan rolled his eyes again as he said, “Yeah? Well, despite what you seem to think, I can’t control what Kinch does or doesn’t do. I can make requests and I can issue orders, but that’s it. I can’t physically **make** him do anything, Colonel Klink.”

Huffing again, because he knew it amused the tall German for some reason, he added, “I resent the implication that I should’ve asked Kinch to throw the match, sir. I can’t help it if your so-called ‘master race superiority’ skipped Bruno,” he added, making air quotes with his fingers.

Klink blinked at that blunt assessment of the _Luftwaffe_ guard, unable to decide for a moment if he was more amused or irritated by it. Finally, he settled on irritated. _I **know** Hogan did not just say that! Oh, he is playing with fire tonight, _Klink thought.

He had a good response to that too. For once, Hogan hadn’t rendered him completely speechless with his verbal tactics. Fortunately for the American colonel sitting beside him, he was spared the heated response. Klink had gotten distracted by the reminder of the challenge he’d issued, and so he’d forgotten what he’d been planning to say.

He’d only been joking at the time, but why not? A bit of fun would do him some good. And if nothing else, the physical exercise would help him unwind somewhat. Looking at the clock, Klink noted that it was still early as well. Normally he always met with Hogan at 22:00 hours (10:00pm), but it was only 19:00 hours (7:00pm) now. As he rose to his feet, Klink let a smile cross his face as he saw Hogan huffing.

The sight always reminded him of a sullen little boy by now, no matter when or where it happened. Klink didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing it, and it occurred to him at that point he’d probably never see Robert Hogan ever again after the war ended. _He will most likely be the first one out of the gates, eager to return home._ The melancholy thoughts caused a strange pang in his chest, which he dismissed. He could brood later on. As of right now he had other things to concentrate on!

Then he said, “Very well, Hogan. You are correct, of course. There is no reason to ruin a perfectly good uniform when I best you. And best you I shall! I will be right back after I change,” he added as he headed for his bedroom.

Klink knew he had a sweatsuit in there somewhere, because he’d worn it for the short time he’d decided to start working out again. Having Sergeant Carter estimate that he was a decade older than he actually **was** hadn’t helped his self-esteem any, that was for sure.

“Take your time,” Hogan called out, ignoring the boastful reply and removing his boots. Tonight he’d felt like wearing them instead of his shoes, figuring that his normal dress shoes just looked strange with a sweatsuit. And though he didn’t often get the opportunity, the younger man enjoyed running around in just his socks. It was so much fun to slide around on the floor!

Glancing around the room, he began to move the sofa and the table out of the way. The last thing either of them needed was to get hurt, after all. The younger man remembered all too well the disastrous results to his rear end from the last time Klink thought he’d gotten hurt. _And I **still** can’t believe I literally fell asleep after all of that either, _he mused as he began to work.

**_ Preparations and a strange explanation… _ **

Shortly after he’d left the living room, Klink reappeared wearing a navy blue sweatsuit. He too had left his socks on, even though he knew from experience that bare feet would grip the floor better. Socks made gaining traction more difficult, but they also made it easier to slide around and get behind your opponent. He’d been counting on Hogan to be barefoot, so he was surprised to see that his brat had left his socks too.

 _Apparently, we think a great deal alike,_ thought Klink with amusement. Hogan had even moved everything single handedly while he’d been gone, which was helpful. Klink had done plenty of stretching and limbering up in his room before he’d come out of it, unwilling to risk getting a muscle cramp of some sort.

It was also surprising to see, since the sofa wasn’t light by any means. It had taken two men to get it in his quarters, so how on earth had Hogan managed to move it alone? And so quickly at that? Klink knew his senior POW officer was strong, but to accomplish such a feat singlehandedly was shocking.

Yet it served as a type of warning as well, and that was to make sure that Hogan didn’t pin him! The German officer doubted he’d be able to successfully break free if he was pinned. Whether he liked to admit it or not, the American colonel had youth on his side, something he didn’t have.

“Well…I am impressed, Hogan,” Klink said, therefore verbally announcing his return to the room. He told the other officer how it had taken two people to move the sofa before, as well as speaking of his curiosity in how such a thing had been done so quickly solo. Hogan just gave him that lopsided grin of his in return, which made Klink’s stomach clench for reasons he refused to acknowledge.

“Thanks, _Kommandant_. It was a little heavy, but not too bad. The table was easy enough though, so I moved it first,” he replied, pointing to the coffee table that was now blocking off the kitchen. “I figured that was an okay place to put it for the time being. And as you can see, the sofa’s blocking off the guest bedroom temporarily. I hope that’s okay, sir. If not, I can put it somewhere else.”

With those words, Hogan rolled his shoulders and began to stretch his muscles. He alternated between leaning left to right, loosening the muscles in his sides before touching his toes. After he was done, he straightened and looked at his _Kommandant_. “Please tell me that you just took out your monocle and didn’t lose it. Those things can’t be cheap.”

Klink just stared at Hogan for a minute, marveling at the fact an oak table was ‘easy enough’ to move! Oak was a heavy wood, and it wasn’t light by any means. But he was distracted from giving a reply by watching the American stretch. _Hogan certainly moves gracefully,_ Klink mused. It was an interesting thing to notice, because he’d never really noticed it before. He himself was light on his feet when he moved, both due to natural ability and the high society dancing lessons he’d had as a child.

After all, a gentleman in high society always had to be able to dance properly with a woman…not stomp on her feet! Pushing the strange observation out of his head, he replied, “Everything is fine where it is, little brat.” A teasing note was evident in Klink’s tone as he spoke, mostly because he enjoyed the verbal sparring they constantly did.

He also relished any opportunity to rile the American up. Hogan never missed an opportunity to do so with **him** , and after all, turnaround was fair play! “Yes, I left it on my nightstand. I did not wish for it to get broken.” Changing the subject, Klink inquired arrogantly, “So, how do you propose we determine when I have won?”

“How we’ll determine when **I’ve** won,” corrected Hogan in a playful tone, “is after I’ve pinned you continuously for ten full seconds. Mississippi seconds, of course,” he added.

“Mississippi seconds?” the tall German repeated, his confusion evident as he made a face and raised his eyebrows. “What is a Mississippi, exactly? And what does a Mississippi have to do with anything?”

Hogan let out a sigh. He’d forgotten that Klink had never been to the United States, so of course he was probably confused. “Not **what** , Colonel Klink, **where**. Mississippi is part of the United States.”

Seeing the confused look intensify, he decided a demonstration was probably a better way to explain this. _Klink might be fluent in English, but sometimes the language and culture barriers are a real pain in the ass._

“Oh, come on, Colonel Klink. Haven’t you ever heard any of us use Mississippi seconds before? I thought you had…usually your office window is open when the weather is nice. Anyway, it goes like this: one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.”

He shrugged and added, “You just say the word ‘Mississippi’ after every number. It keeps people from counting too fast. Otherwise you get the jerks who count like this: onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten. Those are the ones do it because they know they can’t win if they play fair.”

Then he eyed the older man with a smirk. “Do I have to worry about that with you, sir?”

“I have better things to do in my office then listen to you and your mens’ foolishness, Hogan.” Even as he said that, Klink digested this new information.

It sounded utterly silly, but then that was Hogan for you. The American officer came up with some of the most creative, off-the-wall things he’d ever heard! After knowing Robert Hogan for the last three years, he felt sure by the end of the war nothing would surprise him anymore.

“One Mississippi, two Mississippi…like that?” Klink asked hesitantly, testing out the odd American way of counting.

Then he lifted his chin and said haughtily, “I shall have you know, Hogan, I have never cheated at anything in my life.” Which wasn’t technically an answer, but it would suffice for now.

“Uh-huh. Sure, _Kommandant_ ,” came the flippant reply as he watched Klink remove his sweatshirt. “And yeah, you’ve got it. But um…can I ask what you’re doing, sir?” It was slightly chilly in Klink’s quarters. And chilly temperatures usually meant people tended to add clothing, not remove it! But the real problem came after his sweatshirt was off and as Klink was folding it. He cocked his head and stared at the older man for a moment.

Surprisingly, the German colonel had a really good physique. His shoulders and chest were broad, which led to a narrowly tapered waist. The muscles in his arms weren’t overly defined, but they were still pretty evident. His chest had a slight smattering of dark gray hair as well, which matched what was left of the hair on his head. Overall, his body was lean yet still lanky. Hogan had seen it all before, but he hadn’t really noticed at that point since he’d been trying not to look. Klink had been in a bathtub at the time, using fake mineral spring water that Carter had engineered.

When Kinch had fixed their leaking tunnel, Hogan had needed to act fast to explain the bubbling pool of water. If the guards had started digging, their tunnels and mission would have been exposed. So in light of that, he’d spun his whopper about a multi-million dollar ‘mineral spring’ suddenly appearing in Stalag 13, which thankfully Klink had bought. Hogan wasn’t sure why he was even noticing the way Klink looked now, but he firmly stamped the thought down.

He knew homosexuality was a crime in Germany…hell, it was a crime in the United States! But while it only meant jail time and a discharge from the military in his country, it meant all of that and a lot more in Nazi Germany. He’d heard the rumors about what happened to those poor people, and he sure wasn’t going to find out if they were true firsthand!

He might not be a **poof – actually, he was bisexual instead, with a preference for women – but somehow he doubted that the Nazis differentiated between the two. Either way, if even a whisper of that became known, it would destroy his career…and Klink’s as well for being the ‘other party’ involved! He wasn’t going to do that to the tall German, he just wasn’t.

Hogan knew that he was a lot of things, but he wasn’t such a jerk that he’d willingly do such a thing to someone, even someone he was supposed to consider an enemy. And that was final! It also surprised him to realize that he **didn’t** consider Klink an enemy…and that he never had after his first month trapped in Stalag 13.

“Colonel Hogan, I would think you had been with enough _frauen_ to know when someone is taking off their shirt,” Klink said with a half-smile. “After all, you stated before that you were a ladies’ man.”

He could tell Hogan was checking out his upper body and concluded that the younger colonel was merely sizing up his competition. In order to perhaps psych his brat out, Klink causally flexed the muscles in his chest and arms, making his pecs move. “I find it is easier to move one’s arms when they have a free range of movement.”

“Oh, that makes sense. I guess you’re right.” _Yes, you **are** a ladies’ man. And you’d better remember that, Rob, if you want to keep your job and your freedom!_ Following Klink’s example after agreeing that he was right, Hogan took off his sweatshirt. Knowing the older man’s peculiarness about folding his clothes, he didn’t just toss it aside. Instead, he carefully folded it and went to set it on the coffee table.

After seeing Hogan remove his sweatshirt, Klink took a moment to size his senior POW officer up. He could see why it had been easy for Hogan to move that sofa…he was quite muscular!

Like Klink himself, Hogan had broad shoulders and a broad chest. Both led down to a narrowly tapered waist. But unlike him, Hogan’s arm muscles were well-defined. They weren’t massive, but you could tell that the American clearly worked out. Hogan’s chest had hardly any hair, but the hair that was there matched the dark black hair on his head.

Upon realizing he was doing more than just giving the younger man a casual glance, Klink quickly looked away, forcing those thoughts from his head. There was a time and a place for such ideas, and during a war under the current regime hardly seemed ideal. He knew full well how both homosexuals – and even bisexual men such as himself – were treated, and he had no desire to condemn himself to such a fate.

 _And besides, why would Hogan ever be interested in me even if he **did** like men? _Klink thought gloomily. The very idea was ridiculous, because he’d seen Hogan flirt with any and every woman that showed up to his camp. _Surely he can get anyone he desires…he is certainly handsome enough!_ Then he firmly stamped down any further thoughts of that nature, because he didn’t need the distraction right now. He had a wrestling match to win!

As Hogan went to set his sweatshirt down, an idea came to Klink’s head that made him grin. Moving lightly on his feet and staying quiet – a purpose for which the socks helped greatly – he silently followed behind his wayward troublemaker over to the blocked off kitchen. He waited until Hogan had set down his clothing and had turned around, making sure the American wouldn’t hit the coffee table or anything else. “Go!” was all he said before he took a few steps forward and leaped at his brat. Now he would demonstrate that he wasn’t all talk!

**_ A few tricks up his sleeve… _ **

“Ooof!” grunted Hogan as he hit the ground, Klink landing firmly on top of him. Their combined weight had made it a rougher landing than it would normally be. He’d barely had time to register the word ‘go’ before the tall German had leapt at him in a flying tackle, his long legs and lanky frame helping to propel him easily through the air. Whatever else he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that!

Klink had said earlier that he never cheated at anything, which the American colonel decided to call him out on. “Geez _Kommandant,_ you said you don’t cheat at anything! What do you call leaping at me out of nowhere like that?” Hogan complained as he looked for an opening to get loose and back on his feet. “More importantly, why didn’t I hear you behind me?”

“Actually, I never said that I do not cheat at anything. I said that I have never cheated at anything in my life,” corrected the German officer. “But there is no time like the present to start if I wanted to,” he added. “Besides, the last time you were here, you leapt at **me** out of nowhere. This is simply payback, my brat.” The last sentence was said in a reasonable tone, as if the very idea of him cheating was absurd.

“And I can move very quietly when I wish to, you know. Years of dancing lessons.” He struggled to get his feet underneath him so he could sit atop Hogan and pin him down, but his stocking feet slid out from underneath him and Klink lost his hold on the wiggling American.

“Yeah, like a freaking cat!” The loss of Klink’s grip was all the opportunity Hogan needed to get free. He did a triple barrel roll to the side, which effectively put him out of Klink’s grasp. Springing to his feet, he said smugly, “Nice try, sir, but you should know me better than that.”

As he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, he added in surprise, “I’m sorry, did you say dancing lessons? I thought you could dance…as I remember it, you told me you danced with some girl all night while Hochstetter just sat there.”

“I did,” replied Klink as he also got to his feet. “And I **can** dance…quite well, if I do say so myself. I took many, many lessons as a young boy. As I told you before, my family is of the Junker aristocracy. The family name is five hundred years old, and that bloodline is what even gave me the opportunity to attend officer school.” He began to make a wide circle, looking for his opening. “ _Danke_ , Hogan. I pride myself that ability, as it has come in very handy at times.”

“You’re welcome, and what does your family bloodline have to do with anything?” Hogan asked as he too made a wide circle, his stocking covered feet making no noise as he moved. “Can’t anybody go there if they want to? I don’t have any blue blood, but I was able to get into officer school.”

“ _Nein_ , and you are not a German citizen. The United States is obviously quite different in its rules, or perhaps they are just that lax with them. Only people from royal, noble or aristocratic families are allowed to attend officer school in Germany, since being in the military has always been a sign of prestige. I thought you knew that, Hogan,” Klink said evenly as he considered how best to tackle Hogan again.

“Well, we’ve never had a royal family in the United States, so how would I know that?” Hogan asked reasonably. “And anyway, that makes no sense. What’s so special about those types of people? I’d think the ‘commoners’ would be allowed the chance to go as well if they earned it. I mean, I get the whole prestige thing, but doesn’t actual ability have any merit around here?”

He quickly snapped his legs together and pushed off the floor, causing him to slide across it. “Wheeee! You gotta try that sir, it’s so much fun!” Hogan’s voice sounded giddy as he spoke, and a look of pure joy was on his face.

Shrugging, Klink replied, “I have no idea. I agree with you, but that has been the way of things for centuries.” He watched Hogan with an amused look on his face. His brat was acting like an overgrown child, and he was going to remind him of this event the next time Hogan complained about being treated like one! “I take it you are having fun, my little brat?”

“Ah, lighten up,” commented Hogan. “You’re stuffier than that uniform you wear. Or have you forgotten how to have fun? Oh, that’s right…I forgot. I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head in mock apology. “You’re too **old** to remember what fun is. Hey, was the invention of fire really that amazing, or was it just something that happened on accident?”

“Hogan! I am not so old as all that, thank you very much,” Klink said with raised eyebrows at the insolent comment. “I resent that remark, and I will show you otherwise if you would simply hold still!”

“Nah, you resemble it. And where would be the fun in that?” Hogan cupped both of his hands and raised them to chest level, making a beckoning motion with them. “***Bring it on, old man, bring it on!” he said in a teasing voice, trusting that his ability to bait the German every time still worked. Then he stuck his tongue out at Klink, thoroughly enjoying acting like a little kid for once. “Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah! Catch me if you can, _Kommandant_.”

“I will show you old, you little brat!” growled Klink in a fake warning tone as he rushed at Hogan. The move he’d decided to use had been a favorite one of his when he and his brother Wolfgang had wrestled. And with a slight variation, it also seemed to be one the Americans liked to use in baseball.

Hunching over to make himself more compact, he ran forward a few steps and let himself slide across the floor, his stocking feet perfect for that purpose. As expected, the American colonel bent forward slightly to grab him and brace for the impact as well…which was just what the tall German had been hoping he’d do.

Right before Hogan was able to grab him or before they would have bonked heads, Klink dropped down into a crouch, with one knee bent out at a right angle and one leg straight out ahead of him as he slid. That made him lower to the ground, which kept him steady and upright. Clearly not expecting such a thing, Hogan was now grasping for the empty air where he’d just been, and the movements threw him off balance.

Hogan toppled to the floor again, landing on his butt. Using the speed he sometimes displayed, Klink used his bent knee and outstretched foot to push himself upward and forward. He landed on top of Hogan again and pushed him onto his back, but this time his position was a much better one than before.

He was sitting on Hogan’s stomach, with his lower legs were bent backward behind and under him. Basically, it was like a kneeling position where one would rest their weight on their heels. The position of the German colonel’s knees also allowed him to keep Hogan firmly in one place, as he would have no room of any kind to roll.

Where he was sitting was ideal as well. If he had been sitting higher up, Hogan would have been able to use his lower half to buck Klink off. And if he’d been sitting further down, Hogan would have enough leverage to use his torso. His brat was stuck right where he was at, and Klink knew it.

Making sure his position was steady, he leaned forward and pinned Hogan’s wrists to the ground securely as he began to count out loud. “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, –”

“Oh, you’ve **got** to be kidding me!” exclaimed the American officer in shock as he landed on the ground again. Where the hell had Klink learned that?! That was a new move, for sure. But it wouldn’t keep him down for long. He tried to buck Klink off of him, but he couldn’t use the appropriate muscles to do it in his current position. He tried again, only to achieve the same result. Well, that idea was out. Yet there were other ways to get loose, he was sure.

But Klink continued counting as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. “– three Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi –”

“You’re not going to be able to keep me pinned,” growled Hogan in frustration as he tried instead to get his wrists free. Unfortunately, it was proving to be harder than he’d originally thought. The older man had a decent amount of hidden strength in his slender hands!

And still the German colonel would not be deterred in his counting. He still knew how to have fun, but he rarely got the chance to do so anymore. He would show Hogan just what ‘old’ was! “– six Mississippi, seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi –”

“You can’t be serious,” Hogan griped as he gave up trying to get his wrists free. Instead, he tried to roll to the side. As Klink’s legs were firmly anchored behind him and his position was steady, that didn’t work either. _Well, damn._

“– nine Mississippi, ten Mississippi…eleven Mississippi!” finished Klink triumphantly after a pause.

He gazed down with a happy grin at Hogan, who by now was scowling. “And I even held you down for an extra Mississippi,” he said with obvious pride. “How do you feel about **that** , Hogan?”

“I feel like you can let me up now,” muttered the younger officer in embarrassment. He’d never been a gracious loser, which was why he made it a point not to lose.

And usually, he succeeded admirably at that goal. But today, he’d been bested…and by someone older than him! That last part was what really stuck in his craw. _Talk about an unexpected loss,_ he thought.

“Of course,” Klink said agreeably. “Just as soon as you admit that I won the match. Otherwise, I can sit here all night. I am plenty comfortable, you know.”

His eyes danced with both amusement and mischief at these words, and he felt very sure he could back them up. _Let us see how my troublemaker likes someone saying **he** is comfortable enough to be sat on,_ Klink mused.

Growling under his breath, Hogan gave him a dirty look. “Why? Nobody likes a gloater, Colonel Klink.”

“And nobody likes a sore loser either, which is what you are being right now. So we are even on that score,” Klink retorted. “In any event, I would like you to acknowledge it verbally. I do not get the best of you often, you know. Usually you get the best of me instead, at which point you gloat as well. So, if you would not mind –”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hogan interrupted with a groan. “Fine, you win. You beat me fair and square. Can you let me up now?” he demanded sulkily.

“Yes. Thank you,” Klink said smugly, relishing his victory. He let go of Hogan’s wrists and leaned forward so that their torsos were even. Straightening his long legs out behind him, he rolled to the side and off of the American colonel.

As he stood, he held out a slender hand to Hogan. “Would you like some assistance up?”

“Nope. I’ve got it, thanks,” Hogan said sullenly as he pushed himself to his feet. “Where did you learn that? I’ve never seen anything like it before, and it was pretty cool,” he admitted reluctantly.

Klink bit back a laugh as he answered the question. “I believe I told you before that I used to wrestle with my brother, correct?” At the affirming nod, he continued his explanation. “I developed it myself after seeing a baseball game once. I just…altered it a little.”

Holding up his hands, Hogan replied, “Hold on a minute. They play baseball in Germany and nobody told me about it?” He would have to inform his men about this new knowledge at the first opportunity.

“What good would it have done? I cannot exactly take any of you to a professional game, even if I wanted to and if there were any going on at the moment. *There is a war on, you know,” Klink reminded him in a reasonable tone. “But yes, we have it here. It is just not as popular here as it seems to be in the United States.”

“Obviously,” replied the American as he crossed his arms and glared. He was still offended that he’d lost their wrestling match. “What made you decide to alter that move?”

Klink waved a hand dismissively. “My brother was about seven centimeters (three inches) taller than me and outweighed me by twenty-three kilograms. (Fifty pounds) And he was solidly built as well, so I had to do **something** if I wanted any hope of ever winning. I have not used that move in over two decades, so I am glad I remembered it,” he finished with a shrug.

“By the way, Hogan…you look like a sullen little boy who was denied a piece of candy right now,” Klink added with a chuckle. “As you said to me earlier: lighten up.”

Ugh, he really hated it when Klink made sense! While he liked hearing the explanation he’d been given, he did **not** look like a little kid! “I do not!” he exclaimed with a scowl.

“You most certainly do,” Klink disagreed. “But I find it cute anyway. I have not seen such a look worn by one person so often since I watched my nephews, you know.” A melancholy expression appeared on his face as he thought of them, wondering if they were doing okay.

Hogan opened his mouth to reply, but closed it at the sudden sad expression Klink had gotten. “Aw, cheer up, sir. You’ll be able to see them after the war,” he offered, his earlier sullenness gone.

“Perhaps,” Klink said with a sigh as he looked at the sofa. “I suppose we should move the furniture back to its original position now.” He began walking toward the sofa. “I will help you this time. I would have helped you before, but you did it alone before I could do so.”

“That’d be great, _Kommandant_. You pull and I’ll push,” said Hogan as he too headed in that direction. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this handled.”

**_ Reasons are given… _ **

After the two colonels had moved everything back to where it should be, they both took a seat on the sofa. Since both of them were still hot from wrestling, neither one had put their sweatshirt back on. As always, Klink had his riding crop nearby him on the coffee table. He hadn’t planning on using it for tonight’s discipline when he’d put it there earlier, just his hand. Still, he’d discovered it was better to be prepared.

“So, what business do we have to discuss? I do not recall anything naughty you have done lately, Hogan,” Klink said, effectively breaking the silence. He was still feeling good from besting his troublemaker, so the whole boxing match disaster had been temporarily put out of his mind.

Grimacing outwardly – but feeling oddly elated for some reason inwardly – Hogan replied, “You mean you’ve forgotten the boxing match already? Wow. And here I was, figuring I’d be summoned to the _Kommandtur_ right after roll call tomorrow.” He leaned forward and picked up the riding crop and toyed with it, the leather of the tool feeling strange in his hand.

Well, now he remembered! The memory of why he’d been angry before the arrival of his brat returned in full force, which made him frown. He saw the American playing with his riding crop and snapped, “Hogan, put that down unless you wish me to spank your bare bottom with it!”

Shrugging, Hogan replied casually, “If that’s what you want to do, sir. Either way, it doesn’t bother me.” He swished it through the air quickly a few times, grinning at the resulting whistling sound it made. _I see why Klink carries this thing around now,_ he thought with a grin. He could probably just ask the older man outright to give him the emotional release he craved, but baiting him was far more fun.

“It does not bother you,” Klink repeated slowly, as if he was still learning English. “Really? Are you are sure about that?” His troublemaker was testing his patience, which didn’t bode well for his sitting ability later on.

“That’s what I said, sir. Are you hard of hearing now? Man, first a monocle and now you need a hearing aid too? You’re gonna be a sight to see during the liberation,” Hogan said cheerfully as he stood up and tossed the riding crop to Klink, who caught it.

“And just where do you think you are going? I did not dismiss you, Hogan,” said Klink in a dangerous tone. He ignored the jabs at his age in favor of attempting to figure out what was going on here.

“You don’t have to, sir, because I’m not going anywhere.” Deciding that baiting his self-appointed disciplinarian didn’t seem to be working too well, he opted to use his backup plan. Hogan removed his sweatpants and folded them before placing them next to his sweatshirt. Then he lowered his briefs to bare his butt, as he’d done the last time. He didn’t like doing it any more now than he had when he’d cooperated before, but he’d managed it then and he would manage it again.

Klink was glad that he wasn’t wearing his monocle at the moment, because it would have fallen out in surprise. Then the German officer asked him in a bewildered voice, “Just what sort of game are you playing at, Hogan?” The last time Hogan had cooperated with him, he’d been thrown for a loop as well. And sadly, the same was true in this case.

“No game at all, sir,” answered the American with a cheeky smile. “I told you before I liked the endorphin rush that my emotional release gives me each time. It took a long while for me to realize it, but I did,” he replied. “And I already know you’ll just harass me tomorrow about all of this anyway, which is partly why I’m here tonight. The other part is that I wanted to wrestle before we did this, so I’d have the optimal use of my body.”

The smile faded away as he sighed and added, “Besides, I’m taking the initiative here. You know, showing self-discipline and all that. Isn’t that what you’ve been preaching to me about all this time?” Hogan inquired, his frustration at the lack of cooperation evident.

“Well, yes. But –” Klink cut himself off, not quite knowing how to finish that statement. How did one respond when their wayward charge decided to announce that they needed their punishment and all but openly requested it? He was pretty sure nobody in the history of mankind had ever run into this problem before! “What are you saying then, Hogan?” he finally asked wearily.

“Very simple, sir.” Hogan took a deep breath and almost closed his eyes before remembering that Klink had insisted on eye contact before. Saying the hated words wasn’t any easier this time, but he could do this! “Colonel Klink, I have been a very naughty boy. Would you please spank my bare bottom for my disobedience?” He waited impatiently for the answer, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he did so.

Raising his eyebrows at the question, Klink sighed and answered. “Yes. *Request granted, Hogan.” Was his brat really doing this? Either he was telling the truth about how he felt, or he’d finally snapped. It became obvious that the former one was true though, as Hogan had barely waited for the word ‘yes’ before throwing himself over Klink’s lap.

“Hogan, I hope you are aware I was only going to use my hand tonight,” the German colonel said firmly, the riding crop still in his hand. “Sometimes, I wish I understood you better. I really do.”

“Oh, I know that,” Hogan said cheerfully, a grin crossing his features. “But it’s not as effective, you know. Aren’t you Germans all about effectiveness?”

“Grrrr,” growled the older man. “You continue to test my patience, Hogan. I warn you, I can only be pushed so far,” Klink warned him, trying to give his unruly troublemaker a second chance to back off. “I assure you, it would not be a good idea for you to keep this up.”

“I wasn’t planning on continuing to test your patience, Colonel Klink. I was planning on exhausting it completely!” Hogan wiggled his lower body in place, essentially making it look as if he was shaking his butt. “Come on, let’s see if you can still push me past my limits or if you’ve lost your touch. Unless you’re **scared** ,” he taunted. “Aw, what a shame. The mighty _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13 can’t even keep one lone prisoner under control.”

He paused, seeing the angry look cross Klink’s face. _If I just push it a little more, I’ll have it,_ he thought. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay here, then. I’m sure there’s other _stalags_ that can manage something like that just fine! And what would that do to your perfect record, huh?” Hogan knew it was low to attack Klink’s perfect record, but he was feeling reckless and felt like living on the edge tonight.

**_ The return of an old enemy… _ **

Klink was barely hanging onto his temper, but he was doing it. But the combination of threatening to escape and wiggling his behind in a taunting motion was the final straw. He raised the riding crop and brought it down three times on the bare bottom presented to him. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He would teach his brat that messing with him wasn’t a good idea, so help him God. He really would! He brought the crop down several more times, noticing a lack of reaction from Hogan. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “For the love of all that is holy, do not tell me you fell asleep over my lap again!” Klink exclaimed in exasperation.

Having successfully goaded Klink into spanking him, Hogan held in any sounds of pain he might have made. He wanted to see how long he could avoid giving away any indication that Klink was getting to him, and so far it wasn’t that hard. “I’m here, sir. Just wondering when you planned on starting my punishment,” he replied in a sassy tone as he examined his fingernails. _I really need to cut them soon,_ he decided.

“ _Mmmmpf!_ I am glad you are amused, Hogan!” Klink snapped as he brought the crop down a few more times. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “I do hope you are enjoying yourself as I warm your naughty bottom up for you,” he added sarcastically.

Was the American truly not feeling any pain or was he just that stubborn? _He is examining his fingernails as if he is merely bored. What do you think, Wilhelm?_ replied his common sense. The logic made sense to him, so Klink swatted Hogan several more times with his riding crop. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Oh, well thanks for your concern.” Hogan had to stop himself from letting out a hiss of pain. “If you’re concerned about me though, would you mind telling the guy running this place that I’m always cold? I could use a little heat to warm myself up, you know.”

His words were those of a smart aleck, and considering that he wasn’t going to be able to deny that this hurt much longer, he relished his snarkiness while he could. “You can’t miss him. Tall, bald, wears a monocle and always carries a riding crop for some reason. You sure you haven’t seen him around?” Hogan taunted.

“As always, your American sense of humor does not impress me, Colonel Hogan.” Klink bit off the words as he increased both the speed of swats and the force of them. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** To his satisfaction, Hogan finally let out an indication that he was feeling some pain as he uttered a low hiss.

“Owwww, owww! Well, you’re doing a decent enough job providing heat too, sir,” Hogan ground out between gritted teeth. His rear end was really beginning to sting from the increased force Klink was using to spank him. “OWW!”

“Ah, there you are, Hogan. So nice of you to finally make an appearance for your own spanking,” Klink deadpanned as he tried something new. Abruptly, he smacked his brat’s sit spots several times, alternating between the left and the right one as he swatted them. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** That wasn’t something he normally did until the very end of a spanking, but tonight Hogan was being extra bratty!

The reaction he immediately got was encouraging, so he smacked them a few more times in the same manner. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Klink also didn’t want to be predictable in any way, so he returned his attention to the bare buttcheeks that also needed a good thrashing. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Not expecting his sit spots to be swatted this soon in his spanking, Hogan jerked and let out a cry of pain. “OWW! OWW, OWW, OWWWW!” The good news was that it meant he’d reach his desired breaking point that much sooner if Klink was changing tactics on him. The bad news was that either way, it still hurt! Hogan didn’t consider himself a masochist as a rule, but lately he’d started to wonder about that.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWWWW!” His tail was fully burning now as the leather from the crop swatted his bare butt repeatedly. Forgetting that it wasn’t a good idea to do, Hogan instinctively kicked his feet. They were pinned almost immediately, and now the skin was pulled taut.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWWIE, OWWWWIE, OWWWWIE!” The familiar lava was headed his way in a big hurry, and Hogan wondered how long it would take to arrive this time.

“I have warned you repeatedly, Hogan. You insist on not listening to me, and your bottom pays the price each time,” Klink stated, his voice full of disappointment as he continued to spank his naughty brat. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Since he’d already given a lot of swats to Hogan’s buttcheeks, he directed his ire toward the younger colonel’s sit spots again.

“You. Will. Behave!” he snapped, punctuating each word with a fierce swat of the crop. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “I warned you, Hogan! I. Warned. You!” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWW! OWWW, OWW, OWWWWWWIE!” Hogan wailed, sounding very much like a well-spanked little boy. _Damn Klink and his ability to be so thor_ _ough,_ Hogan thought right before the dam burst. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’m **sorrrrrrry!** ” he added as he began sobbing. “OWWWWWIE!”

 _Might we remind you, Rob, that **you** instigated everything here tonight. So don’t complain about it, _his voice of reason and his common sense said together. _Just be glad you got what you wanted._ But Hogan ignored them in favor of enjoying the emotional release he’d so desperately wanted. His shoulders shook as well, which made his whole body ripple and his butt jiggle. _And that only makes the swats hurt worse,_ he concluded as he let the tears flow down his face.

**_ Some aftercare… _ **

Klink should have felt great satisfaction. Hogan had pushed him until he’d had given in and worn his troublemaker’s insolent bottom out. But the only thing he felt was puzzled as he rubbed small circles on Hogan’s back. He didn’t understand why the younger colonel was doing this, but he’d figure that out later. For now, he had to pick up the pieces that were scattered and put a very remorseful brat back together again.

“Relax, Robert. You are just fine. Your bottom is barely red, and you have handled spankings that were much more severe before,” he added. “I cannot say I fully understand this new fascination you have with surrendering to your emotions…but I suppose as long as you enjoy it, that is all that matters.”

The German officer continued to rub soothing circles until he felt the American one was able to speak. “Do you feel better now?” he asked curiously, wondering if this whole thing had just been a clever ruse.

“Very much so. Thanks for that, sir. You’re fine-tuning your technique, I see,” his troublemaker replied after a few minutes of silence and hiccupping.

“What do you mean, Robert?” inquired Klink with a small smile. “You have been spanked with the riding crop before on your bare bottom. None of that is new to you.”

“Unfortunately,” muttered Hogan crossly before he added, “Don’t act like you don’t know what you did differently. I don’t wanna have to spell it out for you, sir.”

He squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of doing so, which made his butt hurt even worse. Much to the American’s dismay, Klink appeared to notice his discomfort with that idea. Sometimes the older man was too observant for his own good!

“Hmmm,” the tall German said thoughtfully, a smirk appearing on his face. “I believe I shall have you spell it out for me, Robert. I would not wish for us to have any miscommunication between us, after all.” His voice was teasing, a tone he knew always elicited an annoyed huff after he’d given Hogan a spanking.

True to form, Hogan huffed and rolled his eyes. The familiar feeling of shame returned as he covered his face, but he still said his next words clearly. “You began punishing me on my buttcheeks, switched to my sit spots and back to my buttcheeks again before you finally finished with my sit spots. Are you happy now?” he complained as he felt his face heat up from blushing.

“Very much so. I appreciate the feedback,” replied Klink with a grin. So his new method **had** been effective! He’d have to remember that for future reference.

“You’re not welcome,” snapped Hogan as he crossed his arms instead and pouted.

“Unfortunately for you, you will not like what I have to say next, I am afraid.” Klink added in an odd tone of voice.

Not liking the sudden shift in tone, Hogan asked, “Why?” in a wary tone of voice. Sudden changes of tone and mood never boded well for him, and he was sure this time wouldn’t be any different. To his horror, he was soon proven right.

Klink asked, “Do you recall what I said to you that night after you foolishly managed to throw yourself off of my lap? **While** I was spanking you with the hairbrush, I might add? And again the night you all but begged me to spank you with the belt, even after I had already done so with the ruler? Think hard,” he advised. “There is only one thing I have said to you one both occasions.”

Hogan thought hard about it for a few minutes, but he couldn’t recall anything that’d been said on both occasions to him. Finally, he shook his head, which caused his black hair to fall into his eyes. “I’m sorry, _Kommandant_ , but I can’t remember anything that fits that description. To be fair, you yelled at me quite a bit both times, so…” He shrugged as he trailed off, pushing the hair out of his eyes as he did so.

The German colonel pursed his lips as he decided what the best way to phrase this was. “I see. Well, let me inform you of what I said to you, shall I? I do believe that I told you – on **both** occasions – that I would spank you every night until the war ends if I felt you needed it. And I do feel that you need it, Robert.”

 _Well, you’d be wrong about that,_ Hogan thought silently, knowing it would do no good to protest. Klink was just as stubborn as he was on some things, and this situation was one of them! He started to ask the older man was being serious right now or just messing around, until he remembered what he’d been told about that before.

“Okay, so…what? I just show up here tomorrow night at the usual time?” the senior POW officer asked, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as he could. “Can I be dismissed now then?”

“Yes and no,” came the puzzling reply from the German colonel. Before Hogan could even think about deciphering that riddle, it was answered for him. “Yes, in the sense that you will show up here every night at 2200 hours. But no, in the sense that you are not dismissed yet.”

Klink drummed his fingers against the skin of Hogan’s rear end as he spoke. “I also told you before that if I decided to do this, it would be effective the day I made that decision.”

The younger man’s heart sank as he realized the huge mess he’d managed to get himself into. “But sir, that means it won’t begin until tomorrow, right?” He wasn’t holding out too much hope on that score, but he had to try. “You’ve already punished me tonight.”

Klink shook his head. “I am afraid that I stand by what I said before. It starts tonight, Robert.”

Hogan’s stomach felt like lead as he protested this idea, despite knowing ahead of time that it wouldn’t help. “Sir, please. My butt hurts so much already, please don’t! Not tonight, sir, **please!** ” He shook his head desperately, causing his hair to fall into his eyes. “I can’t handle any more punishment tonight.”

The tall German shrugged casually. “Perhaps you should have thought about that earlier before you shot off at the mouth, brat. I was only going to use my hand tonight to spank you because I knew what I was going to do afterwards, but you seem to specialize in antagonizing me.”

Klink eyed his troublemaker’s bare behind, satisfied that he was correct in his thinking. “And anyhow, you are fine. The skin is hardly red. I am quite sure you can handle it, Robert.”

“Wait! Just tell me one thing,” Hogan pleaded as he pushed his hair away again. “Are you planning on triggering an emotional release for me each time? Or is it more of a… a reminder?” Not that it really mattered at the moment, but knowing what to expect might be helpful to him somehow.

After thinking it over, Klink finally said, “That depends upon you, Robert. It can go either way. It will also depend on if you or your men have caused any other trouble that day. If that is the case, on those nights you will be one very sore little boy. So consider yourself forewarned.”

Then the _Kommandant_ lifted his hand in preparation to begin his brat’s punishment anew. “And now, I shall finish wearing out that insolent bottom of yours.”

**_ Making good on a previous threat… _ **

With that ominous statement made, Klink brought down his hand. His hand struck one of Hogan’s sit spots first, and the howl of anguish his troublemaker let out was immediately forthcoming. **SMACK!**

“OWW!” cried out Hogan in both pain and surprise. He’d already experienced the emotional release he’d wanted so much tonight, and he wasn’t up for round two. The last time he’d gone two rounds in one night, he’d been sore for days. Not to mention he’d been emotionally wrung out like a sponge that night.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Klink’s hand struck those same sit spots six more times, each time eliciting another painful cry from his unruly brat. He had been hoping he wouldn’t have to make good on his previous threat, but he’d also promised Hogan before that he would never lie to him about this or joke about it. Which left him no other choice but to follow through with it.

“OW, OWWW, OWWW!” Hogan shrieked. He considered biting his lip to keep from crying out, but he didn’t feel like drawing blood. And maybe if Klink heard that he was truly in agony, he’d call it off for tonight. _Yeah, keep dreaming Rob,_ said his snarky inner voice sarcastically. _You know better than that._

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Again and again, Klink’s slender hand swatted the sit spots. He knew very well they were the most sensitive part of his brat’s behind, so he was taking advantage of that fact. He’d even tried giving Hogan a second warning before he’d started tonight, hoping the American would get the hint.

But that had failed as well, and now Klink’s hand switched back to Hogan’s buttcheeks. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWWWIE! Sir, please!” he begged as he instinctively tried to kick his feet. His butt might not have been that red before Klink started spanking him again, but it had to be getting darker by the minute! As he attempted to move them, he remembered that they were still pinned from before. “OWW, OWWWWW, OWW!” he complained as the swats switched back to his buttcheeks.

Hogan supposed he ought to be grateful that at least the focus wasn’t on his sit spots anymore, but he was more worried about putting out the fire in his rear end. It had been fully lit again after fading somewhat. And that meant the lava that had slightly receded before was making its way towards him again. All in all, that was knowledge he really wished he didn’t have! “OWWWWIE! Sir, **please!** Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m **sorry!** I won’t test your patience anymore, I **promise!** ” he pleaded. “Just stop punishing me!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “You have promised me that many times before, young man…and each time you fail to keep your promise!” Klink said sharply. He decided that after tonight, he would not make his brat cry with these reminders. He didn’t want to cause Hogan any type of permanent injury, after all.

Instead, they would only serve to give him something to think about before he went to sleep each night. _And they will keep at least part of him quite warm as well,_ Klink concluded with a smirk. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWW, OWWWW! I know, I know!” replied the American officer desperately as his tail continued to be thrashed. “But I’m serious this time! OWW! Please, I’m begging you, sir…and I don’t ever beg for **anything**! OWWWIE! Please stop it! OWWW! I’ve learned my lesson, and I’m really sorry! OWWWIE!” Klink’s slender hands and long fingers always caused every swat he gave to hurt quite a lot, and tonight was no exception to that.

Klink paused the spanking as he considered the other colonel’s words. He conceded Hogan had a point, and his bottom was a decent shade of red by now anyway. He would give in, but he had to make it look good. It would not do to appear weak-willed, after all.

“That is true. Are you sure that you can keep your promise to me this time, Robert? Are you truly sorry for being disobedient?” the older man asked as he drummed his slender fingers on one buttcheek. “Or are you discovering that being a little brat is not the best idea around me, and only sorry that I am spanking your naughty bottom like a little boy?”

Feeling a blush appear on his cheeks at the embarrassing terms, Hogan didn’t know whether to shake his head no or nod as a way to answer the questions. He decided that doing neither was probably the best option as he answered them. “Yes, yes! I promise, Colonel Klink, I promise. I’ll be good, sir, I swear!”

Hogan closed his eyes and hung his head as he answered the second question, his stomach doing flips at the utter feeling of shame. “Yes…I mean no! Yes, I’ve discovered that was never a good idea in the first place, and no, I’m not **only** sorry that you’re sp…punishing me.”

He also decided that he’d probably never feel all the way comfortable with the childish word as he continued. “But I’m sorry in **general** that you’re punishing me.” he explained awkwardly, hoping he was making himself clear enough.

“Hmmm,” replied Klink thoughtfully, understanding very well what the American officer was trying to tell him. “I suppose I can trust you just this one time. That is, if you will give me your word of honor on that, Robert.”

He was hopeful about the effectiveness of his methods when he heard the clear desperation in his brat’s voice. The shameful way he hung his head only helped increase the hopeful feeling. _Perhaps we are **finally** getting somewhere with this,_ the German officer thought. _And Robert has never broken his word of honor once he has given it to me. The question is, will he do it?_

Now it was Hogan’s turn to think things over. His word was his bond…once he gave it, he made it a point not to break it. That was precisely why he didn’t give his word of honor that often, preferring to reserve it for only the most solemn oaths. He felt certain that **he** could keep out of trouble by himself, but he had a much bigger issue than that. He was also responsible for every prisoner here, which presented a dilemma. How could he guarantee that none of **them** would do anything wrong? He couldn’t, and that was his conundrum.

Meanwhile, Klink had taken Hogan’s silence for a refusal to give his word. “I see. Well, you must not be very serious about what you say. I shall continue then,” he said. He would only give Hogan a few more swats anyway, but appearances were everything in this case. The disappointment was heavy in his tone of voice as he began swatting Hogan’s sit spots again. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWWIE, OWWWW!” Hogan squealed as he jerked his head up and opened his eyes. The pitiful sounds that fell from his lips humiliated him as the most sensitive parts of his rear end were swatted repeatedly. “Wait, please! You didn’t give me enough time to think!” he exclaimed, even as the disappointment he heard in Klink’s voice made him choked up and affected his speech.

Yeah, his butt hurt a lot. There was no denying that. But that wasn’t what finally made the tears start to fall again. No, it was the very idea that Klink didn’t trust him to keep his word that did it this time.

The combination of those things triggered the same feeling he’d felt the one and only time he’d done something extremely stupid in his youth. He couldn’t remember what it was, because he’d all but fully suppressed the memory of the event. But Hogan couldn’t suppress what had happened to him afterwards.

His dad hadn’t even yelled at him for whatever it was he’d done, although Hogan remembered just enough to know that it’d been something really bad. All his dad had done was look at him like he was sorry he’d ever had a son and said quietly, _“Robbie, I’m so disappointed in you.”_

After that, his dad had left his room, opting to ignore him for the next three days as a preferred punishment. The end result of the whole mess had caused Hogan to feel lower than dirt, so he’d made sure he never did anything to feel like that again. Instead, he’d joined the military and worked his ass off to rise through the ranks. As a result, he’d been made a full colonel in the Army Air Force before forty, a rare feat that only a few people had managed.

He’d just wanted his old man to be proud of him. And damnmit, he wanted Klink to be proud of him too! For what, Hogan quite hadn’t decided yet…but he would figure it out. He just had to get that far first, and that meant clearing up the present miscommunication they were having. “Sir, **please!** I …I wasn’t finished.” He hiccupped and blinked away his tears as he thought about what he needed to say.

Klink’s hand stopped mid-swing as he heard the change in the younger officer’s tone of voice. He was crying, but it wasn’t the way he normally did after reaching his breaking point. His voice sounded choked up, and…was that despair he heard in Hogan’s voice? He was used to hearing sorrow and remorse, but not despair. He settled his hand gently on one of Hogan’s buttcheeks again, feeling the slight flinch as he did so.

“Well, tell me what you need to say,” Klink said gently. _“Was ist in deinem Kopf los,_ Robert?” he added, using the German phrase on purpose to help make his troublemaker feel better. He recalled that Hogan had said previously that he enjoyed hearing Klink speak German, so hopefully it would help in this case.

And it seemed to work! The American colonel’s body relaxed, and he was able to talk after a few minutes without seeming overly distressed. “I didn’t want to just give you my word of honor before, _Kommandant_ , because I remembered what you said to me when this all started. I can promise that **I** won’t do anything, but not them,” Hogan began, wanting to clarify his earlier musings.

“And I just wasn’t sure if I gave you my word – and **they** did something to anger you, not me in particular – if you’d consider that me breaking my word. I can’t guarantee what any of my men will or won’t do, because I can’t force them to do anything. All I can do is give you my word as an officer and a gentleman that I **personally** will listen to you and stay out of trouble. That’s the best I can do,” Hogan offered, sounding very unsure of himself as he spoke.

Hogan sounded completely unlike the cocky officer he normally was any other day, and it gave Klink food for thought. He agreed that his senior POW officer had a valid point, and perhaps it had been unfair of him to hold Hogan personally responsible for hundreds of other prisoners. But he was so sick and tired of all the strange goings on in his camp. So he’d hoped that by keeping their leader in line, maybe everything would finally settle down.

“Very well,” the tall German said with a sigh. “I can accept that. But tell me why you are crying, Robert. I know what you sound like when you have surpassed your limits, and you do not sound like that right now,” he pointed out.

Happy that at least the older man was hearing him out, Hogan hung his head again. He didn’t like to talk about his feelings much, preferring to play them close to his chest. And how was he supposed to explain what he’d been feeling earlier?

Letting out a resigned sigh, he resolved to just spit it out. Then the senior POW officer closed his eyes and gave Klink a quick recap of what he’d been thinking before, ending with, “So now you know. I don’t like being ignored, and the disappointment I heard in your voice was really obvious.”

He sighed again and added, “I don’t give a shit if I disappoint most people, but I do when it’s somebody I care –” Realizing what he’d just given away, Hogan snapped his mouth shut and covered it with his hands. This wasn’t the first time he’d done that either, but the habit was getting annoying!

Hogan turned his head to look up at his self-appointed disciplinarian, wiping the remaining tears his eyes away as he did so. _So, is Klink gonna make fun of me for this now?_ he wondered. _Or will he leave it alone?_

**_ More aftercare… _ **

“Language, Robert,” Klink replied, the response an automatic one by now. Concerned blue eyes met confused brown ones as the older colonel tapped him on the shoulder. “Up you get, Robert, and please hand me my sweatshirt. Then fix your clothing and put yours on as well. It is cold and you do not need to become sick,” he said simply.

“And we need to have a conversation,” he added. The American officer had been through enough for one night, and they needed to talk. As Hogan handed him the requested item – handed it to him, not tossed it, he noticed – Klink pulled it on and felt instantly warmer.

He waited until Hogan was fully dressed and sitting next to him before he opened his mouth to speak. Yet he noticed another problem they had right off the bat. His brat was sitting as far away from him as he could possibly get instead of his normal spot nearby. Klink succeeded in not rolling his eyes, but it was a struggle. He scooted closer until their thighs were touching and looked at the younger man, who promptly looked away.

Letting out an annoyed huff as Hogan sometimes did, Klink wrapped an arm around his brat’s shoulders in a half hug, effectively pinning his senior POW officer next to him and making sure that he couldn’t just leave. “ _Mein Gott,_ Robert. You act as if I have rabies or some such thing,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Why did you sit so far away from me this time?” he inquired, needing to know if there was something **else** he needed to be concerned about tonight.

“You already know why,” replied Hogan in a sullen voice as he refused to look at Klink.

“If I actually knew the answer to that, I would not be asking you the question,” Klink deadpanned. “And I would appreciate it if you did not sound so sulky.”

“I do **not** sound sulky!” Hogan protested in a tone of voice that was exactly that. “When did I supposedly start sounding sulky?” he asked as he finally met Klink’s eyes. His curiosity was getting the better of him, despite how he felt right now.

“I should think the better question would be when did you stop?” quipped the older man, his tone still a teasing one. “You have been alternating between moody, afraid, remorseful and sulky since all of this began.”

“Very funny,” grumbled the American colonel, not bothering to deny any of it.

“I thought so,” came the reply. “Now, tell me why you are acting as if someone – what is the English saying – ran over your plot?” Klink said, hoping he’d gotten the phrase right. English saying were strange ones, and sometimes he mixed the words up.

“You mean ‘walked over my grave’?” asked Hogan, one corner of his mouth tilting up at the misspoken words.

“Yes,” confirmed Klink. _Well, I was close!_

“I’m not. That saying means to look somber, and you claim I was acting like I was afraid of you,” Hogan pointed out.

“Ah, I understand,” Klink replied, trying to sound as if he knew that already. “Alright, then why are you – wait a moment, I know it in English – receiving the warm shoulder from me?” Now that one he was pretty confident he’d gotten right. His English skills were excellent, after all.

“It’s actually ‘giving you the cold shoulder, _Kommandant_ , and I’m not. That means to ignore you, which isn’t the case here either,” said Hogan with a grin as a laugh slipped out. It was so cute how Klink mixed up English words and phrases sometimes! And he always did it in the most interesting ways.

 _Or maybe they are not,_ Klink mentally amended. “Oh, I give up,” complained Klink as he threw his free hand up, the one not attached to the arm around his insolent brat. “Apparently, my English knowledge is not as good as it should be tonight. Just tell me why you are sitting all the way over here instead of beside me as you usually do.”

“I’d like to point out I’m still sitting next to you, sir. You moved over here, remember?” Hogan asked in a playful voice, his good mood restored. He always enjoyed their verbal banter anyway, but it seemed even more special when it was just the two of them in here.

**_ Teasing, frustration and discoveries… _ **

“Robert,” growled Klink in frustration. “Just answer the question.”

“Alright, alright,” Hogan sighed as he shook his head. “You ruin all my fun.” His smile faded as he became serious. “If you’ve really got to know, I wasn’t sure how’d you take what I told you just before you told me to get up. It’s unbecoming behavior for an officer act that way around another one, you know. Or in general, really. Especially when that other officer is **supposed** to be the enemy,” he finished as he sighed moodily.

He just knew Klink was going to laugh at him or say something insulting. Hell, he would probably do it if the shoe were on the other foot. It just depended on who the person was. Which meant that he couldn’t get upset about it either, only sit there and accept it. Knowing that, Hogan mentally braced for whatever was coming.

Klink leaned back and stared at Hogan, digesting what he’d just heard. He supposed he really ought to nip this in the bud now, before any other misunderstandings occurred tonight. It had already happened once, after all. “I do not consider you the enemy, Robert.” he said firmly as he reached out and wiped away the tear tracks Hogan still sported with a tissue.

 _What?_ That wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear! It was the furthest thing from an insult possible, and Hogan hadn’t been prepared for it. “Huh?” he asked dumbly, a stupid expression showing itself as he let his face be cleaned like a little kid would. It wasn’t the most intelligent sentence, but it conveyed his confusion. “Are you sure you know what you just said, sir?”

“Oh, I am very sure, Robert,” Klink answered, his gaze locked on the American’s. “I would not let you spend the night in my quarters if I did not trust you. More than once, I might add. After all, a true enemy could very well murder me in my sleep, yes?” he added wryly. “Officially, of course, you will remain that way. That is both for your protection and mine. But I think we both know the truth of the matter,” he finished.

Hogan felt his eyes widen as he locked eyes with Klink again. “Of course,” he agreed weakly, hoping against hope he wasn’t hallucinating this conversation for some reason. He didn’t see why he would be, but stranger things had happened to him. The very fact that he was here at all told him that much. “Glad to hear it, sir.”

Klink groaned and massaged his left temple with his free hand. “Robert, do not give me that look. You know I cannot stand that look,” he said.

Hogan’s confusion only grew at that peculiar statement. “What look? I’m not giving you any particular look.” If he was doing something unusual with his expression, it was subconsciously.

“You know what look. Those puppy dog eyes you always give me when you want something,” growled Klink, keeping his arm wrapped tightly around his troublemaker. “You know very well I cannot resist you when you do that,” he admitted, realizing after he’d said it that he’d only given Hogan another weapon in his arsenal.

His brow furrowed as Hogan took a moment to process that statement. He hadn’t known he **had** a ‘puppy dog eyes’ expression, never mind the fact that Klink couldn’t resist him when he used it! “Actually, I didn’t know I was doing anything out of the ordinary at the moment, _Kommandant_. But it’s good to know you feel that,” he said cheerfully, only partially trying to be annoying. “Would you mind if I looked in a mirror so I can remember what it looks like for later on?”

“ _Mmmmpf!_ Yes, I would very much mind. And no, you will not be looking in any mirrors here tonight.” replied Klink.

“Cheeky brat,” he added, but the tone of his voice belayed his amusement.

“Awww,” pouted Hogan as he stuck his lower lip out in a full pout. “You never let me have any fun.”

“Do not do that either,” warned Klink as he waggled a long finger near Hogan’s face. “I find it cute, and I am attempting to be serious with you right now! So stop distracting me.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” asked his troublemaker indignantly. “You won’t let me use my puppy dog eyes look – which I didn’t even know I **had** , by the way – and you won’t let me express myself via pouting. How else am I supposed to communicate with you?”

“Verbally, perhaps?” suggested Klink. “I know you are very good with words, you silver-tongued devil.” He had noticed before that the other colonel hadn’t said whether he felt the same about him, Klink. Normally he’d let it slide, but this was one of those times where his natural curiosity was a real thorn in his side. If nothing else, he needed to know where he stood with the American. Otherwise, there was a good probability that his feelings would be crushed at a later date.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” grumbled Hogan. “If I had a silver tongue, I wouldn’t get stuck in as many messes as I manage to do.” Just for good measure, he huffed in fake annoyance. “You should know by now that I’m a visual sort of guy. I like showing how I feel rather than saying it,” he announced.

Ignoring the first part of Hogan’s response, Klink said, “I have noticed that, Robert. And I must know how you feel about me, for my own piece of mind. Do you see me as an enemy, or…perhaps not?” he asked cautiously, his voice pitching slightly higher at the end of it with hope.

He was trying to gage where he stood with his senior POW officer. The German colonel wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do if Hogan still considered him an enemy, but he was prepared to deal with it if the American one felt that way.

Rolling his eyes at that unnecessary question, Hogan felt turning up the cute factor he apparently had – and that was still news to him – was in order. Making sure his gaze met Klink’s, he widened his eyes and let the friendly affection he often felt lately toward the older man show. Then he stuck his lower lip out in a full pout before resting his head on Klink’s shoulder.

“That answer your question, _Kommandant_?” he asked with a mischievous laugh.

“No,” grumbled the tall German, “It just means you are being a brat on purpose, and you know it. Albeit a cute one,” he added. The American was going to have him, Wilhelm, wrapped around his pinky finger if he kept this sort of thing up!

“I’m sorry. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before,” came the mock apology. Hogan turned and rubbed his head like a cat against Klink’s colonel’s uniform jacket like a cat. Then he leaned closer and snuggled as close to the German colonel as he dared without making it unusually weird, enjoying the feel of Klink’s arm wrapped around him.

The hug made him feel secure, as if nobody could ever hurt him. And for a moment, he actually forgot there was a war on outside the wires. It was just him and his _Kommandant_ , enjoying a bonding moment together as the only two officers inside of Stalag 13. Finally, he locked his arms behind his head to cushion it and flopped backward over Klink’s lap.

The motion left him lying on his back, looking upward at the other officer. Despite everything, amusement with his antics danced in Klink’s blue eyes. The confirmation that Klink found him funny resulted in a lopsided grin from Hogan as he asked in a playful voice, “How about now? Do you have your answer?”

“Robert!” said Klink in false exasperation as he gazed down at his brat, unable even now to hide his amusement.

 _Hogan is certainly an oddball,_ he thought. _But he is my oddball to protect, even if he vexes me at times._ “I would still like a verbal answer, if you please. But the demonstration is very nice as well,” he felt obliged to add. He’d never admit it, but the fact that his troublemaker clearly felt this comfortable with him warmed his heart.

“Okaaaaay,” Hogan sighed and drew out the word, as if having to say such a thing was the hardest task in the world. “No, I don’t consider you the enemy. I don’t do this with any other _Kommandant_ , you know,” he teased.

“I should hope not, unless you have been taking unauthorized field trips…for which I did **not** sign your permission slip, young man,” Klink teased back. He was relieved to hear that Hogan didn’t consider him an enemy, and that he was the only one that his brat felt this comfortable around. In addition, it made him feel lighthearted to know at least one person here didn’t hate him.

“Rats!” Hogan snapped his fingers as he frowned. “You mean Uncle Schultz’s signature wasn’t good enough? I thought he mimicked your signature pretty well,” he added with a wink as his smile came back.

“No, it was not. There will be no field trips for you. You are grounded,” came the firm reply as Klink struggled to keep from laughing. He hadn’t felt this carefree since he’d been a little boy, so it was enjoyable.

“But Dad! They’re gonna do cool stuff like blow things up, and I wanna goooooo,” Hogan whined.

Yet he couldn’t keep a straight face for long, so he started laughing. “We sound ridiculous, you know that? Our respective brass would think we’d lost our minds.”

“I said no, Robert,” was all Klink could manage to say before he began laughing too. “Indeed, my brat. Though I am certain they felt that way about you a long time ago.”

Hogan raised his eyebrows. “ **Well!** There’s no need to be insulting, Colonel Klink,” he replied.

“Who was being insulting? I was merely pointing out the obvious,” Klink said reasonably.

“How is that obvious?” Hogan demanded, not sure if he should be insulted or not. “What have I ever done that could possibly lead you to that conclusion?”

Now it was Klink’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “You mean besides being given a perfect opportunity to escape **with** a hostage – namely, me – and leaving, only to return to Stalag 13 because you ‘*just could not bear to escape’?” he asked wryly.

“Yes!” Hogan said indignantly, deciding that he was indeed insulted. “I paid good money to be at this resort, and I intend on staying!”

“And how much money did you supposedly pay, Robert? I assure you, I never saw so much as one _Reichsmark_ ,” Klink said evenly, taking Hogan’s words as assurance that at least he didn’t have to worry about his senior prisoner of war officer going anywhere!

“And I have told you before, this is not a resort! It is hardly as luxurious as a real resort, for one thing,” the German colonel added, feeling compelled to point that out since Hogan kept insisting otherwise.

“You’re right. If it is, it’s the crappiest one I’ve ever been to. But the company’s nice,” Hogan deadpanned as he shrugged. “I dunno. However much a B-52 bomber plane costs, I guess. Planes aren’t free, you know, and I’m sure the United States government has been docking my pay for it ever since I got here,” he added thoughtfully.

To be honest, that hadn’t even occurred to him until now. He’d just been thinking off the cuff, which was a honed skill of his. “That’s probably why you never any of saw it, and it would have been in US dollars anyway. So what else have I supposedly done that’s so strange?”

Having expected that question, Klink ignored the witty response Hogan had given and ticked the items off his slender fingers instead as he responded to the question. “You have kept General Burkhalter out of trouble with Berlin many times with your quick thinking, despite the fact he is an enemy. You have kept Major Hochstetter out of trouble with Berlin many times with your quick thinking, despite the same thing. You have kept **me** out of trouble with Berlin more times than I can count – and with other people too, I might add – with your quick thinking. You –”

“Okay, I get it,” grumbled Hogan. “So I’m weird because I like to keep things running smoothly here, I guess. Better the devils you know then the devils you don’t,” he said with a grin.

“You think you are funny, Robert?” demanded Klink, even as he admitted to himself that the American actually **was** very witty. “If we survive this war with all of your antics, I will be surprised.”

“Nope, I don’t think I’m funny. I **know** I’m hilarious,” Hogan tossed back sassily with a roguish wink.

“And why wouldn’t you survive? Or me, for that matter? I’m just a simple prisoner of war, locked up in *the toughest POW camp in all of Germany. And you’re here with me, running the place. I didn’t think the _Kommandanten_ of POW camps usually had too much to worry about,” his senior POW officer felt obliged to point out.

Shaking his head, Klink said, “Ha-ha. You are **so** amusing, Robert. And yes, that is normally the case. After all, prisoner of war camps are hardly based nearby the front lines. But when has Stalag 13 ever been what you would call ‘normal’? I certainly missed seeing it happen if that is the case.”

He gave Hogan an amused look. “I am glad you remember that **I** am running this camp and not you. Because sometimes, I swear that you act as if it is the other way around. And you, Robert, are anything but ‘a simple prisoner of war’. A regular prisoner of war does not act as if he owns the place!” he finished.

“I thought I was,” said Hogan confidently as he stretched. “And I suppose you’re right about that. This camp’s never been normal,” he admitted. “And hey, somebody’s got to own and run it, right?” he asked with a smirk.

“Though that means I should probably make a few changes around here. Things like making this place co-ed, for one thing. I’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Hogan asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I give up. You are completely impossible sometimes!” replied Klink in exasperation before he gently poked Hogan in the stomach. He’d chosen to ignore the question on purpose, not even wanting to entertain such an absurd idea. “Now get up off my lap so that you can put your cap, coat and boots back on, you brat. It is time for you to return to your barracks.”

“Am not!” Hogan shot back as he stuck out his tongue and shook his head. “Can’t I stay right here, sir?” he requested. “You really are comfortable, you know. It’s a nice change of pace from my lumpy barracks mattress,” he added.

“Hmmph. You are too,” Klink grumbled in reply, remembering how comfortable his lap had obviously been before for his wayward charge.

“Are we really going to do this again?” he wondered aloud, recalling the last time that Hogan had acted this way. He’d earned himself a second spanking that night with Klink’s hand after he’d already received the spoon, the German colonel recalled.

Even though he had no intention of doing that, an empty threat wouldn’t hurt. “Of course you can,” he said with false kindness before quickly adding, “But if you are going to stay there, you might as well flip back over onto your stomach, as you usually do when you are here. It does tend to make things easier in that regard.” Then he let his ‘nasty-happy’ smile cross his features in order to help back up his empty words.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Hogan said dryly as he pushed himself up. “You’re such a killjoy, you know that?”

As he got to his feet so he could grab his stuff, he felt a sharp swat land on his butt. **SMACK!** “Oww!” he yelped. “What was that for?” he asked with a pout as he rubbed the smacked area.

“Because I am a killjoy, as you just said,” Klink said smugly, enjoying having an edge over the younger officer for once as he swatted his brat’s bottom again. **SMACK!** “And to remind you to listen to me the first time as well when I tell you to do something.”

The second swat to his behind produced another yelp. “Oww! Hey, knock it off!” Hogan complained before adding a hasty “sir” to the end of his sentence. He quickly walked over and grabbed his jacket, which he slipped on and zipped up.

Then he grabbed his boots and walked over to the sofa, making sure he sat down before Klink could swat him again! But sitting down that rapidly had its consequences, as the senior POW officer soon found out. “Oww. I shouldn’t have sat down that fast.”

“Then why did you? And I will pretend that I did not hear the disrespectful tone that you just used, troublemaker,” Klink said as he watched Hogan put on his boots. “By the way, where are your normal shoes?”

“To protect my butt from you, since it seems to be your new favorite target lately!” Hogan said in frustration, thinking that much was obvious. “And I fixed it at the end, anyway.” Having gotten one boot on, Hogan began to pull on the other one.

Hogan wasn’t used to wearing boots as a rule, and it showed. “But to answer your question, I left ‘em in my barracks, sir. They looked stupid with a sweatsuit,” he finished, still annoyed that Klink had managed to sneak in those two extra swats to his sore rear end.

“Oh,” Klink said as he nodded. That made sense, he supposed. “You should not have **had** to fix it, Robert. That is the point I was trying to make.” After Hogan had finished tying his both of bootlaces, they both stood up and walked towards the door.

His brat was walking backwards, which succeeded in keeping said target out of Klink’s reach. “Yes, your bottom has become my favorite target, that is true.” the older man replied. “And it will continue to be, until such time as you learn to be obedient!”

They had reached the door now, which meant it was time for them to say goodbye for the night. In a playful tone of voice, Klink glanced at the American and said, “Well, **I** enjoyed myself tonight. I do not know about you.”

Hogan made a face, his expression looking like he’d bit into something disgusting. “I did too, for the most part. And I’d be happy to find you a new target, Colonel Klink. One that’s not attached to me!”

“The most part?” Klink repeated, sounding confused.

“Um, yeah. The punishments weren’t fun, especially the second one. At least the first one brought the emotional release I like with it. That little announcement you decided to make wasn’t fun for me either,” the American officer said.

A ‘nasty-happy’ smile crept across the tall German’s features as he spoke. “Well, I would not expect any of the above to be fun for you. And I rather like the target I have been using,” he replied with an uncharacteristic wink.

Hogan’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “Well, **I** don't like it! You’re pure evil, do you know that _Kommandant_?”

“I am well aware of that, but flattery will get you nowhere, Robert,” replied Klink as he grabbed the unsuspecting other officer into a full hug. “I will see you tomorrow night and every night thereafter at our usual time of 2200 hours,” he said as he let go of Hogan.

“Sure, Colonel Klink,” replied Hogan in surprise as he returned the hug, unsure what else to do unless he wanted things to get awkward. “Can I ask what that was for, sir? I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Merely a small sign that your insufferable self is growing on me,” explained Klink in an even tone. “I do apologize if you were not expecting it.”

He swatted Hogan’s behind twice more before his senior POW officer could think to defend that area.

**SMACK! SMACK!**

“Was that any better for you, perhaps?” the tall German inquired with a smirk.

“Ow, ow!” yelped the startled American as he put his crush cap back on his head. “No!” he added with a glare. “I liked the hug better.”

“Well, do not complain about it next time,” the German colonel shot back as he opened the door. “Now, get back to your barracks before I do it again.”

Then he gave Hogan a salute and received one in return. “You have until I count to three to make yourself scarce. One Mississippi, tw –”

“I’m going, I’m going!” interrupted Hogan hastily as he backed out of Klink’s quarters and out of his reach. “And I wasn’t complaining. It was just an observation!” he added once he was a safe distance away.

“Good night, Colonel Klink!” he called out as he made his way down the steps and quickly began walking away.

“The same to you!” Klink called out before closing the door. He only hoped Hogan was true to his word, or he would be one very sorry little brat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Homosexuals in Nazi Germany were sent to concentration camps, wore pink triangles as badges, and forced to perform slave labor. They were also castrated and tortured before being brutally murdered.**
> 
> ****Poof is another name for a homosexual, which can be derogatory depending on how it’s used.**
> 
> **Until the end of World War Two, only royalty, people of noble blood or people born into aristocratic families were allowed to become officers. The general belief was that being an officer was a privilege, and therefore commoners weren’t offered the opportunity.**
> 
> *****That line is from an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants called ‘Band Geeks’ and is used to taunt Mr. Krabs. It’s one of my favorite lines from that show.**


	8. For You, The War Is Over…And For Us Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is finally over, with the American troops reaching Stalag 13 first to liberate its inhabitants. Yet Colonel Hogan and his team still have some things to take of within the camp. Will Colonel Klink survive the arrivals of two unexpected guests?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _
> 
> _Führerbunker_ = Leader’s bunker  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _Kraut/krauts_ = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for ‘ _Stammlager_ ’, which is short for ‘ _Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager_ ’. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Reichsmarks_ = The currency of Nazi Germany. (It was discontinued in 1948.)  
>  _Wehrmacht_ = The collective name of the German armed forces from 1935 – 1945  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _SS-Reichsführer_ = Leader of the Reich SS (Heinrich Himmler’s title)  
>  _Reichsmarshall_ = Marshall of the Reich (Hermann Göring’s title)  
>  _Führer_ = Leader, Adolf Hitler’s title  
>  _Was brauchst du von mir_ _?_ = What do you require from me?  
>  _Oui_ = French for the word ‘yes’  
>  _Vive le général!_ = French for ‘Long live the General!’  
>  _Vive l'Amérique! Vive les Alliés!_ = French for ‘Long live America! Long live the Allies!’  
>  _Generalmajor_ = German rank, which was equivalent to a brigadier general (1 star) in the United States Air Force during World War Two.  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Le Colonel_ = French for ‘The Colonel’  
>  _Le Général_ = French for ‘The General’  
>  _Excusez-moi_ = French for ‘Pardon me’  
>  _Boche_ = French slang, which translates to ‘German’ & is a derogatory term.  
>  _Fräulein_ = Woman  
>  _Ja_ =Yes  
>  _Non_ = French for the word ‘no’  
>  _Russkie_ = American slang, which means ‘Russian’ & can be a derogatory term.  
>  _Nein_ = No

**_ Outside, near the gates of Stalag 13… _ **

Colonel Hogan never thought he’d live to see the day that World War Two ended. When you ran an underground spy ring out of a German prisoner-of-war camp, it tended to give you a bleak outlook regarding your survival chances. Still, the war was finally over…and not a moment too soon for him! The date was May 20th of 1945, and the American troops had liberated Stalag 13.

He smiled as he recalled the events leading up to today. On May 2nd, the news of Germany’s surrender had reached Hogan and his team. Since they had a direct connection to London, they knew about it before anyone else. However, the rest of the camp didn’t learn of it until a visibly shaken messenger delivered the daily newspaper. The poor guy was so upset, he was lucky he had remembered how to drive his motorcycle! Hogan didn’t think he was so much worried about Hitler’s death as he was about the fact that Germany had lost a world war…for the second time in a row.

Adolf Hitler was dead by his own hand. Apparently, he’d committed suicide in the _Führerbunker_ via a gunshot to the head. Hogan couldn’t say that he was unhappy about that, but the same could not be said for the _Kommandant_ and his guards. There were a variety of reactions to the news. Sergeant Schultz had been happy, of all things! Not overly surprising, since Hogan knew the man was anti-war to begin with. He had showed his second-in-command Corporal Langenscheidt the paper and ordered him to tell all the other guards. At that point, the fat sergeant had decided maybe he’d better tell **his** boss, – the Iron Eagle himself – what was going on! The American colonel had followed him to the _Kommandtu_ _r_ with the belief that Schultz would require his assistance in informing Klink of the situation. Not surprisingly, that belief had turned out to be correct.

Colonel Klink had at first been angry, demanding to know why Schultz had burst into his office without knocking. When Schultz began stammering at the German officer’s anger and trying to explain, Hogan had sighed and handed Klink the newspaper himself. Klink had gone whiter than white and stood up, saying nothing to either of them…except that he expected no disturbances for a little while. _“Including you, Colonel Hogan!”_ he’d snapped. Then Klink had rose and left for his quarters. For his part, Hogan figured Klink just needed time to process everything and had honored his wishes to be left alone. And the guards? They seemed to be mixed pretty evenly between being relieved that there would be no more bloodshed and being terrified of what was yet to come.

And even though everyone here was well aware of the war’s end and the outcome of it, his spankings in Klink’s quarters continued at the end of each day…as they had done continuously since the new policy had been instated. Klink had switched the time of these spankings from 2200 hours to 1900 hours, reasoning that both he and Hogan needed more sleep now than they had needed before due to the extra stress of upcoming events. The spankings were mere reminders...enough to make his rear end sore, but not enough for the soreness to last for more than an hour or two. They generally didn't make him cry either.

Although just for a change of pace, sometimes Hogan had openly requested - not antagonized Klink in order to provoke it – for the older man spank him past his limits, which satisfied the emotional release he enjoyed so much. Klink thought he was extremely strange for asking such a thing, but after three years of a not-quite friendship, that was nothing new to either of them. Thankfully, he always complied with Hogan's request whenever he made it, which made the senior POW officer happy. And the German officer had also pointed out that said spankings would help Hogan sleep better as well. Despite all the talks they’d had previously, Klink seemed to be depressed and moodier than normal about the future.

Even so, Hogan had to admire Klink's moral principles and dedication to his self-appointed task, even despite the risk that Hogan might have him shot…either in retaliation for everything or just out of spite. _"If something is worth doing, it is worth the effort to do it right the first time,"_ Klink had once said. Indeed, the American officer had found that his sleep quality increased greatly each night after each of the reminder spankings Klink gave him.

This special time each night was also a good time for them to talk and vent to one another about various subjects, which resulted in Hogan actually leaving Klink alone in his office during the day. The older man had actually gotten more work done as a result, which – according to Klink – had pleased the remaining brass in Berlin immensely. There were a few exceptions, but for the most part they did all their talking in the evening.

The American colonel had been true to his word and made sure he was on his best behavior constantly. Even his team had kept themselves out of trouble, since London hadn’t given them any new missions lately. Hogan was very glad of this, as he had figured things would go sideways at some point like they usually did. That being said, any opportunity to avoid extra punishment was one he accepted gratefully. Having experienced a double spanking under the wings of the Iron Eagle twice before, he wasn’t eager for a third repeat of it!

The days after that had passed rather uneventfully. All of the other former POWs were excited and making plans to leave Germany. Some talked about going to a pub or a brothel first, both of which were normal and to be expected after years at Stalag 13. But that had been almost a month ago. Now General Patton himself was here, his tank parked just outsides the gates of Stalag 13. Currently, he was talking to the other American officer near those same gates. Since Hogan had expected General Barton or someone else who’d been here fairly recently to arrive, seeing Patton himself was a bit of a shock.

He could see Klink nearby, not within earshot but pacing nervously and giving them concerned glances. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two Americans were discussing him and his camp. No doubt he wondered what Hogan would say…or if the younger colonel would order him shot as revenge for both being the warden of the former prisoners and his own unique brand of ‘discipline’.

Hogan frowned as he recalled the promise he’d made to himself a long time ago. _Has it really been only a year? It feels like a lifetime ago,_ he thought. He grimaced as he knew what he had to do later on. It wouldn’t be pleasant, that was for sure. Yet a promise was promise, even if it was only to himself. But that would come later. First he had other things to do regarding Klink.

He turned to General Patton and nodded. The general had been asking him lots of questions regarding Stalag 13, his operation, and his treatment here. He’d also asked Hogan his opinions of the camp guards and the _Kommandant_ , wanting to know if Hogan wanted any of them to be hung or shot.

“Because I can make that happen for you, Colonel Hogan. Just point out who needs to be eliminated,” he said, his hand on his gun as he smiled nastily. “Whatever you feel is fair. You’ve racked up quite a few favors from London and the Allied command, and God only knows they owe you a massive debt.” His smile became softer at that point, adding “Or should I say Brigadier General Hogan?”

Hogan let his distaste for the general’s words show on his face. _Have them hung or shot? Uh, how about ‘no’?_ he thought. The guards here had been decent enough to him, especially Sergeant Schultz. The fat sergeant just wanted to re-open his toy factory, and had ‘seen nothing’ more times than Hogan could count. As for Klink, well…he had something quite a bit different in mind.

He looked over at Klink and let the familiar mischief dance in his eyes, making sure Klink saw it before grinning. Then Hogan turned back to Patton. “You’re right about that, General Patton. There’ve been times I – what?” he asked in surprise. “You’re kidding. Are you sure you can do that?” _Me, a general?_ He rather liked his eagles and wasn’t sure how to feel about trading them in for stars.

“Well, I’m sure London won’t give me any trouble on that angle, and President Truman isn’t complaining. This is all actually on his orders anyway. He may or may not be adding more than one star – I don’t know if he’s made up his mind yet – but legally this is all I can do here, General Hogan.”

Patton appeared to be saying Hogan’s new rank on purpose, because the grin gave him away. “So how about it, Hogan? Are there any _krauts_ you want taken out? That Klink fellow of yours over there looks plenty nervous. He got any reason to be? Has he mistreated you in any way?” Patton asked.

Hogan shook his head. “Afraid to disappoint you, but no. Colonel Klink and his guards have all been nothing but decent to us and treated us in a humane way. I’d like you to make sure none of them are charged with war crimes or anything else. I’ve seen what life in other _stalags_ was like and trust me, we were very lucky here.”

He thought for a few minutes before adding, “Actually, when it comes to Sergeant Schultz and Corporal Langenscheidt, I want to make sure they’re treated as war heroes. You can’t miss Schultz, he’s over six feet tall and twice the size of everyone else. Just ask him to point out Langenscheidt, which he’ll be able to do since that’s his second-in-command.” Hogan let a smirk play over his lips. “And I have something else very different in mind for Klink. Something special.”

Patton blinked, unsure he’d heard the new general correctly. “You want to repeat that, Hogan? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.” He looked slightly confused at this announcement. “You want them treated as war heroes? You **do** know they’re _krauts_ , right?”

“I know they’re **Germans,** sir. I hadn’t missed the _Luftwaffe_ uniforms on them,” corrected Hogan dryly as he frowned. “There’s no need for name-calling. But Sergeant Schultz and his philosophy of ‘I see nothing! I hear nothing!’ has enabled my men and I to succeed in damaging the war effort of the Third Reich a lot faster than we would have otherwise. And Corporal Langenscheidt seemed to be of the same mind as Sergeant Schultz when he was with us in Paris.” He saw the confused look on Patton’s face and said, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Patton nodded. “Alright, I’m holding you to that. So, what do you have in mind for him then?” He gestured toward the _Kommandant_ , who saw it and began to pace faster. “This ought to be good, Hogan. Everyone knows you’ve got quite the representation for coming up with off-the-wall schemes that somehow work.” He looked over the other American and waited.

“Oh, you bet I do. I think a promotion to brigadier general sounds more reasonable than being shot. Don’t you, General?” asked Hogan calmly. “Klink might be an idiot at times, but he’s been quite useful to my operation. When I was trying to help him when he was being blackmailed by some of the SS, he caught me in a German uniform dead to rights outside Stalag 13 and didn’t turn me in. No matter what excuse I gave him, he could have had me shot as a spy anyway and been well within his rights to do so. Despite everything, he never said anything about it to General Burkhalter or anyone else. And I can tell you firsthand that getting rid of me would’ve made his life a lot easier, but I’m still alive. That’s got to count for something.”

Hogan took off his crush cap and scratched his head as he added, “He’s also kept our neighborhood Gestapo man off our back and off our trail. He even sent his Sergeant of the Guard, Sergeant Schultz, to warn us of a radio detection truck once when the Gestapo were visiting. Suffice it to say neither of them wanted the Gestapo here anymore than we did.”

Hogan looked around. “Speaking of which, where **is** Major Hochstetter? I figured he’d have shown up here for sure, if for no other reason than to try and take me out.” He put his hand by his mouth and said in a stage whisper, “I don’t think he likes me very much.” Putting his cap back on, he added, “For that matter, where’s General Burkhalter?”

Patton cracked a grin as he said, “Hogan, you’re absolutely nuts and your request is completely impossible. But…” He trailed off and gave the new general a serious look. “You make the impossible work for you every day, so why can’t I do the same?”

He looked nonchalant, as if promoting an enemy general were an everyday occurrence. “I can make that happen, but not in **his** military. He’d have to join the US Army Air Force for that to work out. Even **I** can’t give people in the _Luftwaffe_ promotions, since I’m pretty sure there’s some rule that says you have to be **in** a military first before you can promote people.”

He shrugged at the questions Hogan asked him. “If you mean the short man dressed in all black with a nasty temper, he’s on his way here. And it’s funny you should mention General Burkhalter, because that’s who he’s riding with. At least according to the American officer riding with them, whose name is Captain Jones.”

Then he gave Hogan a searching look. “Do you make a habit of hosting the general and the major here, or is there something else you want to tell me?”

The new American general gave Patton a wink. “Yeah, Major Hochstetter has quite the temper. Believe me, everyone at Stalag 13 knows when he’s here…and I don’t just mean because they recognize his staff car. You can hear him yelling at Klink no matter where you are in the camp. He’s better than any loudspeaker! But then, all the Gestapo we’ve met tend to be like that.”

Though he had to smile as Patton gave him the news he wanted to hear. “The major is riding with the Burkhalter? Oh, that car ride ought to be entertaining. Those two can’t stand one another.”

Hogan put on his best innocent face as he spoke to Patton. “Not really. Those two are just usually around when something big happens and I figure this counts as something big. That’s it, really.”

Pointing at Klink, he asked, “So you can make that happen if he joins our military, right? Because I probably should go talk to Klink before he tries to give Stalag 13 its first successful escape. Just have London airdrop me the appropriate papers that I ask for. They’ll need to have all the seals, list of departments, etcetera. I’ll give them the information they need to make them.”

He gave Patton a serious look. “The sooner the better if you can arrange it, sir. But hey, I just thought of something…on the off chance he doesn’t want to join us officially, can you make Klink an honorary general in the Army Air Force? I get the feeling wearing a German uniform might cause him some trouble with our boys, but I also don’t want him accused of stolen valor if he wears one of ours either.” _After all the trouble I’m going to in order to keep Klink alive, the last thing I need is for one of us to shoot him on accident,_ Hogan thought.

Patton looked surprised at this request as he nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll let General Walters know to expect a message from you or one of your team.” He raised an eyebrow at Hogan’s next words. “Its first success – oh, never mind. You can tell me later,” he replied. “I’ve got to go, so you’re in charge. If Captain Jones gives you any problems, tell him he can reach me on my tank’s radio.” The two generals faced one other and Hogan offered a salute, with Patton returning it.

“Oh, these are for you, Hogan. You’ll get a ceremony later on of course, and then you can officially retire your eagles. But for now, you can at least wear these.” He handed Hogan six stars and added, “Two for your flight jacket, two for the jacket of your dress uniform, and two for your uniform shirt. Oh, and this is for you too.”

Patton handed Hogan a new crush cap, which looked somewhat similar to his current one. The fabric of the cap was still made of brown leather and had a gold American eagle in the middle of it, but that was where the similarities ended. Unlike the cap he was wearing presently, the upper part of the new cap was stiff. As it was brand new, the wire inside it keeping it pointed hadn’t been removed yet. The brim and visor were black, but the chin strap was gold. Last but not least, there were gold oak leaves decorating both the brim of the cap and the visor.

“Thanks,” said Hogan after taking the cap from Patton and nodding his agreement to the other general’s words. The new general removed his old cap and carefully put it inside his jacket pocket, reminding himself to put it away later on as he placed his new one on his head. The stiff peak felt odd after years in his former one, and he decided to fix that later on. After that was done, he removed his eagles and placed them in the same pocket. Finally, he pinned four of the stars onto the collar of his bomber jacket and shirt collar, pocketing the other two to add to his dress uniform later on.

“Have fun, Hogan. I’ll tell all the guards except for the two you mentioned they can go. Goodbye for now,” said Patton. With that, he spun on his heels and walked away, yelling orders to his men. Hogan watched him go, an amused look on his face as the guards shook hands with the American soldiers. Every last one of them gave Hogan a grateful look and a salute, which he returned, before leaving. Soon the only Germans left in camp were Schultz, Langenscheidt and Klink. The two enlisted _Luftwaffe_ men stood near the gates, quietly engrossed in conversation.

Colonel Klink…oh, this news was going to be fun when Hogan told him it later on. His men knew about Hogan’s plans, since he’d needed Newkirk and LeBeau’s help to make what needed to be made. But obviously they didn’t know about his promotion yet, and Hogan debated if he should just wait and see if they noticed anything different.

In Klink’s case, Hogan felt bad for him. The German colonel had been at his current rank for the last twenty years, so this newest surprise arriving with Burkhalter ought to be good. He wasn’t sure how the former _Kommandant_ would take it, but he just hoped that Klink wouldn’t faint on him…or have a heart attack at the news. He turned and walked towards Klink, seemingly unconcerned about anything in particular.

“ _Kommandant_ Klink! Can I see you for a minute?” Hogan called out as he walked towards the older man.

Klink was still pacing and looked extremely nervous. Was it mean to tease him at a time like this? The poor guy looked like he was expecting to be shot at any minute. _It’s not exactly the nicest thing to do,_ his inner voice said. _On the other hand,_ _you can’t argue that it’s fun to do anyway!_ He couldn’t argue with that logic, so he didn’t bother trying.

“Colonel Hogan,” Klink greeted him stiffly with a salute. “What –” Which is as far as he got before Hogan interrupted him.

“ **Brigadier General** Hogan,” the American corrected him cheerfully as he returned the salute. “I got a promotion from General Patton just now. See?” He motioned to the shiny new silver stars on his bomber jacket and uniform shirt, as well as his new crush cap. “He said I’ll get a ceremony and all that later, but he wanted me to have my new badge of rank and cover now.”

Klink gave him a tight smile. “Of course you did. **I** manage to stay a colonel for twenty years, and **you** get a field promotion…all the while being a prisoner of war in my camp! Though I cannot say I am surprised at you rubbing it my face.” He looked sad all of a sudden. “So, what did your general want? No doubt giving you instructions on how to torture me before killing me,” he said gloomily.

“What are you talking about, Colonel Klink?” asked Hogan. “We’re not the Gestapo, and we don’t make a habit of randomly killing people. And we certainly don’t torture them.”

The American still looked way too innocent to be believed, which told Klink knew something was up. If there was one thing Hogan **wasn’t** , it was innocent…especially if there were any monkeyshines afoot! The sly colonel – _general now_ , he corrected himself bitterly – could be counted on to be in the thick of anything going on. You could set your watch by that fact, if nothing else.

Looking very tired, Klink replied, “Col…General Hogan, I am tried, and I do not wish to play games with you anymore. I have known you three years too many and contrary to popular belief, I am not a _dummkopf_. Just tell me what General Patton asked about me and what you told him in return.”

The new title left a bitter taste on his tongue. Hogan opened his mouth to say something, but Klink wasn’t finished. “I could not hear you two talking, since I thought it unwise to approach an armed American general given how the war turned out. But I could see him looking at me and gesturing, and I could see you doing the same. It does not take a genius to put two and two together, Hogan. So no more games, please. Jell me whatever cruel fate you have planned for me and let us get on with it,” he finished.

Hogan cocked his head as he listened to the tall German speak. He could see where Klink was coming from and didn’t fault him for that conclusion, even if it were wrong. Still, he was highly offended that the other officer clearly thought so little of him. He would never just throw Klink to the mercy of the Allies! Unwilling or not, the older man had been a huge help to him and the Unsung Heroes’ operation. _Maybe he’s just resigned to his fate,_ his inner voice said. _Look, can you blame him? You’d feel the same way if Hitler had won._ Logical or not, he was still somewhat miffed about Klink’s perception of him.

Drawing himself up to his full height – something he rarely did, as he preferred to slouch somewhat – Hogan was surprised to find that the two of them were the same height as he gave Klink a glare. “Colonel Klink, just what sort of guy do you think I am?” he demanded irritably. “I don’t know what **your** brass would have done in my place, but that’s not how I operate. I happen to **enjoy** having to gotten to know you, even if the circumstances weren’t exactly ideal. We’ve had this talk before, if you recall.”

Klink looked taken aback at this announcement, but he didn’t interrupt as Hogan continued. “If you must know, nobody’s going to kill you. You’re not even going to prison.” He smiled evilly as he put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I had a much better idea as to what the Allies should do with you.”

Klink wasn’t quite sure why Hogan’s declaration surprised him, but it did. He would have bet good _Reichsmarks_ that Hogan hated him. Even despite the talk they’d had long ago, the German officer still didn’t quite believe it. The American had **enjoyed** getting to know him? That was news to Klink, as he couldn’t see how that could be the case.

He couldn’t understand why Hogan would even bother with this pretense anymore, for that’s surely what this was! _Just one more game Hogan is playing with me,_ he thought sadly. Klink didn’t have many friends to begin with, and the few that he did have – **had** – had been killed. It was a lonely existence, to say the least.

Though he was pleased to know that he wouldn’t be killed or sent to prison, Klink wanted to know just how Hogan had managed that! Deciding he should probably ask before the opportunity was lost, he inquired, “Hogan, I have heard stories from my comrades-in-arms about the Allied forces, and I know they hate us. Therefore, I find what you are saying rather difficult to believe.” He looked around at the mostly empty camp before lowering his voice and hissing, “What did you do?! And don’t lie to me…please,” he added as an afterthought.

Hogan shrugged causally. “Would you relax? If I wanted you dead or harmed in any way, I’ve had plenty of time to make it happen. I didn’t want you dead, and I never have.” He gave the _Kommandant_ a smile. “Besides, I – oh, finally!” he exclaimed, looking over Klink’s shoulder. “The roly-poly and Grumpy the dwarf, right on time.”

 _What kind of cryptic statement was that?_ Klink wondered. _“I’ve had plenty of time to make it happen.”_ Deciding not to focus on that right now, he started to ask the newly minted general something else when Hogan made his announcement and looked over his shoulder. “Hogan, who are the roly-poly and Grumpy the dwarf?’ he asked, confused. “What are you – oh no,” he groaned as he turned around and got his answer. The familiar six axle grey staff car with _Wehrmacht_ markings was rolling through the gates, carrying General Burkhalter and a familiar menace in black who looked extremely unhappy.

“What are they doing here?” he whispered in shock as it came to a stop. “What have you done?!” General Burkhalter he could maybe understand, since he was Klink’s direct superior. But he knew the American despised Major Hochstetter more than he did, and with good reason. Whenever he visited Stalag 13, the foul-tempered man spent half of his time threatening him and the other half accusing Hogan of being Papa Bear…the notorious leader of the Underground.

Klink knew there was no way that was true, because Hogan would have to escape to do any of that. _And who in their right mind would escape from a prisoner of war camp only to come back…multiple times?_ he wondered. Hogan had often said that the Gestapo major needed a hobby, and Klink secretly agreed with him!

“Colonel Klink, I’ve got this handled. Calm down,” was all the American had time to say as General Burkhalter, Major Hochstetter and who he presumed must be Captain Jones got out of the staff car. The young captain saluted Hogan and said simply, “Colonel Hogan, here are the German officers I was sent to bring back…as you requested, sir.” He took a closer look as the sun sparkled on the shiny metal, saw the stars instead of the eagles on Hogan’s bomber jacket and saluted again. “ **General** Hogan, my mistake. I didn’t see the stars on your jacket before. Sorry about that, sir.”

“No worries…Captain Jones, right?” asked Hogan lightly, looking at the badges of rank the young man wore. When the young man nodded, he smiled. “You didn’t know, since you were told I was a colonel, and you had no reason to. Heck, the rank is so new **I’m** still getting used to it. Don’t worry about it.” He motioned to Burkhalter and Hochstetter, whose mouths had dropped open in shock. “Leave them with me, Captain. I’ve got it covered.” Jones nodded, saluted once more and left after Hogan returned it.

Burkhalter was the first to recover his wits. “You are a general now? My congratulations, General Hogan.” He offered Hogan a salute, which the American returned. “You managed to get a promotion after being a prisoner of war for three years…that is impressive indeed. Some of my staff cannot even manage to get one after two decades!” He glared the now trembling Colonel Klink. “ **KLINK!** Are you just going to stand there and gawk, or are you going to greet me?”

Klink had been momentarily taken in by this turn of events and the apparent ease that his senior prisoner of war officer and his commanding officer spoke to each other. _Just what is going on here?_ he wondered. But at Burkhalter’s sharp words, he managed to shake himself out of it. Snapping to attention, he clicked his boot heels together and saluted the fat Austrian.

“Of, course, of course! My apologies, _Herr_ General. And you too of course, _Herr_ Major.” Klink saluted Hochstetter, who returned it silently for a change. The Gestapo major looked like he would **so** rather be anywhere but at Stalag 13 at the moment. “I was just –”

“– standing there like an idiot? I noticed,” the general deadpanned. “Do you mind terribly if we take this inside your quarters, Klink? It is cold and I would rather get comfortable. This is sure to be a long and interesting discussion.”

“Of course, _Herr_ General!” replied Klink. He looked over at Hochstetter, who was still silent but now visibly fuming. “Lead the way, Major Hochstetter,” he added, not wanting the irate Gestapo man anywhere near him when he finally started yelling. With Hochstetter, it was never a question of **if** he would yell, but **when**. The German colonel preferred not to go deaf any sooner than he had to. Hochstetter nodded silently and stormed off towards Klink’s quarters, still looking rather upset.

“I really despise that man,” remarked Burkhalter. “It was quite an unpleasant car ride, to say the least.”

“I don’t think anyone here likes him very much, General Burkhalter,” remarked Hogan as they walked toward Klink’s quarters. “Did you bring the envelope with you? The one regarding both issues?”

Sighing, Burkhalter replied, “Yes, but with _SS-Reichsführer_ Himmler missing and _Reichsmarshall_ Göring having been arrested, it was quite difficult.” He gave the American a look. “Heinrich might have been difficult to reason with at times, but he was still a dear friend of mine. I wished him no ill will even when worst came to worst. And have you ever requested to speak with a prisoner on the phone when that prisoner is being held in a prisoner of war camp? I daresay that was a new occurrence for the British, to say the least. I am sure they thought I was mad.”

The Austrian patted his coat. “Still, I managed to get his permission and his signature on the appropriate documents anyhow…after a promise of a full, in person explanation at some point. I would have been here sooner, but the mail service is slower than usual these days and I had to wait.” The fat general appeared to think that over for a minute before adding, “On second thought, do not answer my question. Knowing you as I do, Hogan, you probably have done just that.”

Hogan nodded, smirking at Burkhalter’s comment but choosing to ignore it. “Well, you got it. That’s all that matters. Have you seen Göring yet?”

Burkhalter shook his head. “No _._ Truth be told, I do not even know which camp he is at. I had to call in a favor I was owed, but they made the call for me. And nobody would tell me which camp I was speaking with. Something about ‘possible misplaced loyalties’ or some such thing,” he added with a grimace. “After all I have done for them!”

Well, this was the most cryptic conversation he’d ever heard! Now Klink was thoroughly confused. Since when did Burkhalter and Hogan work together? For that matter, what did Himmler have to do with this, and why did Hogan seem hell-bent on dragging the leader of the SS/Gestapo into his schemes? Klink wasn’t even in the SS… **or** the Gestapo! _Thank God for small favors,_ he thought. And what would Hogan possibly need Göring’s signature for? What was going on? He had so many questions!

“ _Herr_ General, what exactly is going on? What has happened? Why was _Reichsmarshall_ Göring arrested? And what does any of that have to do with me?” the German colonel asked. “For that matter, where is _SS-Reichsführer_ Himmler? And _Herr_ Goebbels?” If nothing else, Dr. Goebbels wasn’t the head of the Ministry of Propaganda for nothing. The short, slender man had a way with words…and his speeches were always interesting to hear, even if Klink didn’t agree with his opinion. Surely he could talk himself out of any mess. Right?

 _Maybe not,_ said the logical part of him. _Or have you forgotten when Hogan told you how he lied about the Battle of Britain?_ The problem was Klink **hadn’t** forgotten it, and he hadn’t forgotten what his unruly troublemaker had said that night either. He’d brushed it off at the time, believing Hogan’s words empty and only meant to make him feel better. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Burkhalter gave him a glare. “You ask too many questions, Klink! Nobody knows where Heinrich is! That is generally what ‘missing’ means, you know,” he remarked dryly. “And you will find out soon enough exactly what is has to do with you,” he said ominously. “Regarding _Herr_ Goebbels, he committed suicide by gunshot a day after the _Führer_ did.”

The general gave Klink a searching look for some reason, but Klink didn’t know why. “As for everything else, it is complicated. But let me try and simplify it for you anyway. Hitler accused Göring of attempting a coup and declared him a traitor. Hitler also had him thrown out of the Nazi Party and had him placed under house arrest for 6 years. He was going to have him executed for high treason, but he decided to settle for merely expelling him from the Party instead. A condition of that house arrest was that Göring was supposed to resign from the _Luftwaffe_ after those six years had passed. However, since Hitler is now dead, that no longer applies. As such, he is still head of the _Luftwaffe_.”

Burkhalter shook his head. “Do not ask me to explain what was going through his head, because I do not know. After the news broke, Göring fled and was arrested by the British when he tried to cross into Switzerland. They took him to a British POW camp and that is the last I heard from him until our phone call.”

“I know where he is,” said Hogan quietly. “Your friend Himmler, I mean.”

“How could you possibly know that, Hogan?!” demanded Burkhalter angerly. “I am his closest friend, and even **I** do not know that!”

Hogan shrugged. “I’m a well-connected man, General…what can I say?” He looked Burkhalter in the eye. “He’s in Lunenburg, in England. Or at least his body is…he committed suicide by biting down on a cyanide capsule. I guess when a British officer tried to look in his mouth during his interrogation, he decided he was better off dead than alive.” Looking serious for once, he added, “I’m sorry for your loss. This damned war has claimed enough lives.”

The look that appeared on Burkhalter’s was the same one he would have if someone had slapped him. “I…that is terrible to hear,” he said roughly. “Yet somehow, I believe you.” As the group had now reached Klink’s quarters, he stopped and closed his eyes briefly. He was clearly trying not to show any emotion. Opening them again, he replied softly, “You are correct about that, Hogan. If nothing else, I am thankful it is over.”

Klink nodded solemnly, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. Three of the most powerful men in the Third Reich were dead and the remaining one was being held captive by the British. A sticky end to be sure, and not the way he’d pictured the war ending at all…despite what he’d been told by the younger man. It brought back his earlier fears he’d had while pacing…what would happen to him now?

Hogan had said he wouldn’t be killed or go to prison, but he’d said nothing about any of Klink’s men. What would happen to his Sergeant of the Guard and the rest of the men under his command? And his country was in ruins…where would he go? Were his mother and his brother Wolfgang even still alive? Or his nephews?

Suddenly, Klink felt queasy. Wordlessly, he climbed the stairs and stood next to a still silent but fuming Hochstetter. He opened the door for the two generals and let them enter, followed by Hochstetter. Speaking of the short major, did he know any of this? If he didn’t, Klink wasn’t going to tell him. _Let Burkhalter deal with it. I cannot handle this right now._ Bringing up the rear, he followed the rest of the men into his quarters and shut the door behind him. He needed to sit down as soon as possible and deal with all of this new information.

**_ Inside Klink’s quarters… _ **

Klink sank down onto a chair and looked at the wall. He knew he should probably ask his questions, but for the life of him he just didn’t know what to say. Perhaps Hogan would be nice and tell him directly, for once. Since the American usually preferred to play games and dance around the subject, it would be a nice change!

After Burkhalter had sat down in the other chair, Hogan sat down on the sofa. Unfortunately, that meant Hochstetter was stuck sitting next to him. That didn’t make him happy, but at least he wasn’t screeching! _Yet_ , his inner voice said. _Give him time; he’ll find something to set him off soon enough!_ Ignoring that unpleasant thought, Hogan cleared his throat and looked at Burkhalter. “So, General Burkhalter…you’re the _Kommandant_ ’s commanding officer. Would you like to do the honors?”

Burkhalter looked like he had bit into a lemon. “Not particularly. But I suppose I must.” He looked over at the tall German, who still looked shaken. “Klink, would you mind paying attention to me?” he asked irritably. He wasn’t sure what he had ever done to anyone in a past life that deserved having Klink under his command now, but it must have been something terrible! The older man single-handedly gave him more headaches than any other subordinate officer he had, not to mention that his camp caused the most paperwork.

Klink looked quizzically over at the fat general, still unsure what was going on but willing to at least hear the other man out. Not that he had much choice, really…he was certain that if he tried to leave, he would be stopped somehow. At least he wasn’t sitting next to Major Hochstetter. That was something, at least. Klink **really** didn’t like the Gestapo on principle, and he despised the short major in particular. Since said short major was still silent and had yet to say a word to anyone, it was a bit worrisome. Usually the other man would have been screaming about **something** by now! “I am listening, _Herr_ General,” he replied. “ _Was brauchst du von mir?_ ”

“Speak English, Klink…Hogan does not speak German and to do so with him here is rude,” Burkhalter said sharply. “Besides, this was entirely his idea. I can assure you that I would never do this on my own in a million years.” He gave the German colonel a criticizing glance. “Frankly, I think you are the biggest _dummkopf_ the _Luftwaffe_ has ever seen.” He saw the frown Hogan gave him and sighed. “Nevertheless, General Hogan has managed to convince me otherwise. I do not change my mind easily – especially regarding you – so that alone is an accomplishment. You are very lucky to have him rooting for you, Klink.”

“I’d just like to point out that I **actually** do speak German, General,” piped up Hogan. “And I’m fluent in it, but there are still some phrases and stuff I don’t understand. So the consideration is appreciated anyway. And my men aren’t as fluent in it as I am…so when they get here later on, English would definitely be preferred.” He waved his hand. “Sorry, just wanted to point that out. Please, continue.”

For his part, Klink was one percent perplexed. **Hogan** was rooting for him? As in, the Hogan sitting on the sofa…the same one that was his troublemaker? Why? What was his angle? For that matter, why was he calling General Burkhalter? **How** had he called General Burkhalter? When had they had time to talk about anything, and why were they talking about **him**? _I will ask all of these questions later_ , he decided.

For now, he nodded his head. “Well, I have found that when General Hogan wants something, he can be very persuasive,” began Klink. “I have quite a bit of personal experience in this matter.” He raised an eyebrow at Hogan as he spoke, wordlessly daring him to deny it. The American just smiled and lifted his hands with the palms facing up and out in a ‘nothing personal’ gesture. “Please continue, _Herr_ General.”

“I was planning on it,” remarked Burkhalter. “As I was saying, your senior prisoner of war officer here had quite a crazy idea. Where he got it from, I do not know. Why he would go to all this trouble for you – his warden – I cannot understand either, even with my knowledge of him and his situation. In any event, you can thank him for what I am about to tell you.” Giving said senior POW officer a look, he asked, “Would you tell your men to come in here please, Hogan?”

“Of course, General,” replied the younger man smoothly. Everyone in the room watched as he rose and walked over to the phone. _What is he doing now?_ wondered Klink. Hogan picked up the phone and did something rather strange. Instead of asking for the operator, he said “Hey, Kinch? It’s time. You guys got everything together?”

He listened for a moment and nodded, a mischievous grin on his face. “Great! You guys are the best team a guy could ask for. Make sure you bring the costumes too – yeah, those ones. We have some introductions to make, and – what? Yeah, we’ll show them later. Just put the extra stuff in the kitchen except for the main two sets.”

Hogan then listened some more before adding, “We’ve got two extra guests…our favorite general and our friendly neighborhood Gestapo. Yeah, the usual one. We can do the tour later. By the way, tell Newkirk and LeBeau I said to keep a civil tongue in their heads…and tell them that’s an order. I don’t need anybody ruining this.” He listened a moment more and replied, “Good. See you guys in a few minutes. We’re all in Klink’s quarters, so come in the back way. See you soon.” He hung up and walked back to the sofa. Sitting down, he said, “They’ll be here soon, sir.”

“Good,” replied Burkhalter cryptically. “I trust this will not take all day.”

“I hope not. I’m sure everyone here has things to do,” replied the American. “Unless Colonel Klink decides to make a speech, things should move along pretty fast.”

Burkhalter groaned and massaged his temples. “I forgot he has a tendency to do that.” He gave Klink a glare. “Klink! You will make no speeches of any kind. Is that understood?!”

Blinking, Klink gave his commanding officer a blank look. What was Burkhalter going on about now? “Perfectly, _Herr_ General.” He paused before asking his next question. “Why would I be making a speech anyway? What do you know that I do not?” _Damn Burkhalter and his little games! And damn Hogan for helping him!_

“Klink, if I listed everything I know that you do not, I would die of old age before the list was complete,” replied Burkhalter sarcastically. “*Now, shut up and listen.”

“*Yes sir, shutting up and listening,” replied Klink obediently. Now **this** he was used to hearing from the fat general! He could work with this. Happy to be back in familiar territory, he waited for the next words out of Burkhalter’s mouth to be both scathing and insulting, as they usually were. Yet when his commanding officer said nothing after a minute, Klink had to ask a question. “What am I listening for, exactly?”

As Burkhalter opened his mouth to reply, Klink shrank back into his chair in preparation for a blistering tirade. That was what usually happened when he questioned Burkhalter, after all. And while he was used to it by now, that didn’t mean it was any more pleasant to hear! Thankfully, it never came. He was spared by three loud knocking sounds. Yet they didn’t seem to be coming from the front door. “What is that?” he asked.

“That would be my men, Colonel Klink…and the sound you were listening for,” said Hogan as he stood up. “If you all could look this way, I’d appreciate it.” Everyone in the room watched the American general as he walked toward the kitchen and approached the stove. Before Klink or anyone else in the room could ask why he was over there instead of answering the front door, Hogan yelled, “Come on up!”

All eyes widened as the stove swung to one side and Sergeant Kinchloe appeared. “Hi Colonel,” the radioman said calmly, as if popping up from a tunnel was an everyday occurrence! He obviously hadn’t noticed the stars replacing the eagles on Hogan’s jacket. “Everyone’s here, so if you could step out of the way…”

“Sure, Kinch,” replied Hogan as a grin appeared. He stepped out of the way and added, “Just put everything but the two main sets with you in the kitchen. And keep them folded! We don’t want to give the game away. You guys got here quicker than I expected, so General Burkhalter hasn’t told Klink yet.”

“Roger that, sir.” Kinch climbed out of the tunnel and said, “You heard the Colonel guys, let’s go!” He stepped out of the way so the rest of Hogan’s core team could come up and stood next to his commanding officer.

Okay, Klink wasn’t stupid. He’d figured out something funny was going on when Hogan made his mysterious phone call, but to say this was unexpected was an understatement! He felt dizzy as he realized that not only had Hogan been digging at least one tunnel, but that it led to his quarters! As he watched not only Sergeant Kinchloe appear from the tunnel, but Sergeant Carter and Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau as well, he was curious. _Why would they spend all their time and effort digging a tunnel to my quarters? Why not an escape tunnel instead?_

That didn’t make any sense. It was every prisoner of war’s duty to escape; surely they should have been focused on that instead! _Unless they planned to kill me one day and just wanted easy access to me,_ he thought. But no, that didn’t make any sense either. Hogan had said he didn’t want him dead, and he was in charge of the other prisoners.

And why were two of the four former prisoners who’d just arrived carrying fabric? Klink didn’t like being confused **or** left out of the loop, and he’d just about had his fill of both today. “ **HOO-GAAAN! WHAT EXACTLY IS GOING ON HERE?!** ” he finally yelled out of frustration.

“If you would relax and calm down for a minute, sir, you might find out,” remarked Hogan. “There’s really no need to shout, I promise.”

“Yes Klink…do shut up,” added Burkhalter, looking amused. “Let the gentlemen come in first, and then I will finish what I was saying before.” By now, the former POWs had finished climbing up from the tunnels now and had closed the entrance. After they came over to the living room area, Burkhalter held out a hand, indicating they should stay standing.

Then he rose and motioned for Klink and Hochstetter to do it as well. After everyone was standing, he smiled and said, “First things first. Sergeants Carter and Kinchloe, Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau…I thought you might want to congratulate your commanding officer on his recent success. Congratulations, General Hogan,” he finished, giving the American general a salute first despite it being against normal protocol…normally the lower ranking person saluted first, and Burkhalter outranked him. But this was a happy occasion for Hogan, and the Austrian general had his own reasons for doing what he did.

Klink did the same. Burkhalter gave Major Hochstetter a fierce warning glare, enjoying antagonizing him. The major looked highly insulted about this turn of events but offered a salute reluctantly. The reaction from the former prisoners was immediate. As one, Hogan’s team all snapped to attention and saluted the new American general, who returned all the salutes in a lazy way with a smile. Still, he looked a bit uneasy about being the sudden focus of attention.

“ _Oui,_ _oui_ , _OUI! Vive le général!_ ” cheered LeBeau. He had a huge grin on his face, and he pumped his fist in the air. “ _Vive l'Amérique! Vive les Alliés!_ ”

“Always knew you could do it, Guv’nor!” said Newkirk as he shook his commander’s hand. He had a smile on his face, but his green eyes were bright with unshed tears. Letting go, he added, “I told meself I wouldn’t get emotional or nothin’ when this day came…excuse me, sir,” he finished as he turned away and discreetly wiped his eyes, the tears managing to fall as his happiness for Hogan overwhelmed him.

“That’s amazing, boy – I mean, sir!” Carter piped up. He had a goofy smile on his face and was clearly happy for Hogan.

“Congratulations, General,” added Kinch, who was smiling. “You know this promotion was never a question of ‘if’, but ‘when’, right sir?” he inquired.

“Aw, knock it off you guys,” replied Hogan. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and had an embarrassed look on his face. “It’s only a brigadier general…and you guys act like I got four stars instead of one. It’s nothing big, really.” The embarrassed look faded to a mischievous one. “Besides, we can talk about it later. There’s other things we need to do first.”

A chorus of “Yes sir, General Hogan!” was heard from the four former prisoners as he motioned for his men to sit down. Anywhere they wanted was fine with him. Hogan then retook his seat next to Major Hochstetter, who looked even more unhappy than he had before – if that was even possible – and had already sat down.

After everyone was sitting again, an irritated Hogan looked at Burkhalter. He wasn’t a fan of unnecessary attention or praise, and the general had simultaneously caused him to experience both. In his eyes, the praise was completely unnecessary. “You’re really blunt when you want to be, aren’t you General Burkhalter?” He raised an eyebrow and added, “Talk about an unexpected way for my men to find out about this,” gesturing to his stars as he spoke. His men were seated on the floor, surrounding him and Klink.

Although even as he noticed this, he noticed not one of them was anywhere near Hochstetter! The Gestapo major had still said nothing, and Hogan wondered what would finally set him off. _Maybe he’s still in shock that we won the war,_ thought Hogan nastily. Either way, the fact that he wasn’t shouting wasn’t something the American was going to complain about. _And at least you don’t have to figure out how to tell your men about the promotion now,_ his snarky inner voice piped up unhelpfully.

Klink was surprised that Burkhalter would bother making the announcement to Hogan’s men. As he dutifully saluted Hogan, he heard the various exclamations of surprise and congratulations. Noting that they all looked genuinely happy for the American general, he felt a pang of jealousy.

None of his men ever looked happy to see **him** , no matter what the occasion was. The former prisoners just looked happy to be **around** Hogan in general, even before the news was announced. But why were they holding what appeared to be a pile of dark cloth? After sitting, he waited for Burkhalter to speak. Looking around him, Klink noticed that Hochstetter looked even more cranky, as if he were constipated. _Plus, anything that annoys Hochstetter cannot be all that bad,_ he decided.

**_ A long time coming… _ **

“I thought it best that they get used to addressing you with your new rank, Hogan,” replied the fat general evenly. “And I pride myself on doing the ‘unexpected’ quite well. Now,” he said briskly, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair impatiently, “to business.” He looked over at Klink.

“Klink, as I stated before, this is not my idea. Nonetheless, I have obtained the necessary papers. My understanding is that General Hogan and Corporal Newkirk handled the rest.” He took a deep breath, looking anything but pleased at all as he did so. “Congratulations, Klink. It has taken you twenty years, but you are now a general in the _Luftwaffe_. A _Generalmajor_ , to be exact.”

Hogan looked at the blank looks on his mens’ faces. “That’s equivalent to a brigadier general in the US Army Air Force, or a one star general,” he explained, translating the German rank.

Listening to the short exchange, Klink was able to understand why Burkhalter had done what he did. Ranks were important in the military, no matter which one you were in. He could grasp that idea. What he **wasn’t** grasping was the verbal bomb his commanding officer had just dropped on him. There was no way he’d heard what he thought he’d heard. _Too much wishful thinking, Wilhelm,_ he thought.

Not wanting to look any dumber than he was sure he already appeared to be – but at the same time unwilling to give himself any false hope later on – Klink decided to say what was on his mind. “General Burkhalter,” he said slowly, “I want to assure you, first of all, that I am not hard of hearing or daft in any way. That being said, could you please repeat what you just said? Because I am not sure that I heard you correctly. You have to admit, it is rather hard for me to believe,” he finished weakly.

Rolling his eyes, Burkhalter sighed. _I really dislike dealing with this man,_ he thought. _Why me?_ “Klink, it is hard for **me** to believe…and I am the one who did half of the talking to make it happen! And I am not so sure that you are **not** daft at times.” Noticing the uncharacteristically hurt look on his subordinate’s face, he repeated himself. “I said, you are now a _Generalmajor_ in the _Luftwaffe_.” Unable to keep the next sarcastic barb from slipping out, he didn’t bother trying. “And as I said before, it only took you twenty years.”

Klink nodded, looking like somebody had slapped him. He didn’t appreciate the general’s rude remarks about his career advancement – or rather, lack of – over the last twenty years. Yet he was still trying to process this new information. _A general? Me? Finally!_ he thought. But he still had questions, damn it!

While this explained what Hogan and Burkhalter had been discussing when they discussed him, it didn’t explain other things. Things like why Göring was involved in this, or why Hogan would go to all this trouble just for him. And even though it seemed petty, he wondered if he would get a new uniform to go with his new rank.

With those questions on his mind, Klink decided to both show his appreciation with this unexpected promotion and ask the most pressing question on his mind first. “I see. _Danke, danke_ _Herr_ General!,” he said happily as he felt a huge smile appear on his face. “I will not forget this!” He looked over at the American. “Thank you too, Hogan. I will not forget what you have done for me either. This is most…unexpected,” he added.

“But I am most curious as to why _Reichsmarshall_ Göring was directly involved in this? Surely, that is not normal protocol?” he asked. Apparently, Hogan hadn’t been lying when he’d told Klink before that he was a well-connected man!

Burkhalter blew out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Klink was an idiot, to be sure, but even he had to admit that the question was a valid one. Normally generals could promote or demote subordinate officers on their own; only special cases needed Göring’s direct approval. And this was a special case. “Because, Klink, seeing as the war is over I am not authorized to promote anyone on my own merit. I can only do that in times when Germany is actively at war. Since we have surrendered, that no longer applies. As such, I needed a higher authority – meaning Hermann – to approve this.”

The Austrian general waved away the former German colonel’s thanks. “Do not mention it. Ever.” His voice held a note of warning in it. “As I stated before, this is all Hogan’s idea…and he did the other half of the talking to make this happen.”

 _Oh, that reminds me!_ Klink turned to look at Hogan, who was openly smirking. _My brat never ceases to amaze me,_ he thought affectionately. “You have my deepest gratitude, General Hogan.” It was funny how the American’s new title didn’t leave him feeling bitter anymore now that he was a general too! “But what…I mean, why? Why would you do this for me? It seems like an awful lot of trouble,” he said thoughtfully.

Sighing heavily, Hogan looked him in the eye. “Look, _Kommandant_ , I like you well enough. At the very least, I don’t hate you or have any grudges towards you. Personally, I always thought it was kind of sad you’d never been promoted…you’re an alright guy and that seems like a rare quality in German officers these days. Excluding you of course, General Burkhalter,” he added. “You don’t seem too bad yourself.”

Burkhalter dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand as Hogan continued. “I know it’s a little late, but better late than never, right… **General** Klink?” His eyes danced with the familiar look of mischief Klink had come to know as he smiled. “But there’s still more. We’re not done yet.” He looked at the resident pickpocket of Stalag 13. “Newkirk, can you hand me what you’re holding, please?”

“Sure thing, Guv’nor,” replied Newkirk. He handed Hogan what appeared to be, to Klink, a bundle of dark blue and white cloth. Hogan nodded his thanks and looked back at the new German general. “I got your measurements from your personnel file, sir, so –”

“Where did you get access to that?” Klink interrupted. He swelled with pride at hearing his new rank, but that was important to know. How had Hogan and his men even known where to find that? After thinking about it for a moment, the answer occurred to him. He glanced over at the Englander, who was smirking. “Never mind, I think I know the answer.” He sighed and said, “You were saying?”

“Right. Anyway, I got your measurements from your file, and Newkirk here made you a new uniform. One for a _Luftwaffe_ general,” he added. “Mind you, it wasn’t easy to get the correct fabric, but then nothing worth doing is ever easy. And General Burkhalter brought the appropriate awards and documents with him.” He handed the uniform to Klink, who looked stunned. “Here, go put it on. I’m lousy at sewing, so if something needs fixing, we need to know before Newkirk leaves.”

“O-okay,” Klink stammered as he took the uniform and stood up. He left the room, his long legs moving quickly. While he was gone, Carter remarked “Well, he seems happy!”

Newkirk just rolled his eyes at that comment. “Carter, wouldn’t you be? Ol’ Klink’s finally done an’ got ‘imself promoted. Can’t see why the Colonel – I mean, General – would bother wit’ it, personally, but then, that’s jus’ me. I think the guv’nor’s gone ‘round the bend, ‘e has…why else would he do anything for that lot?” he finished.

“Well, yeah. But still, you gotta be happy for him anyway, right?” asked the young sergeant brightly. “Plus, the fact that he’s still alive at all is a good thing.”

“The fact that he is still alive is due solely to _le Colonel_ – _excusez-moi_ , _le Général_ – and his soft spot for the _Boche_ ,” muttered LeBeau darkly. “I have never understood Americans, and I don’t plan on starting now.”

Kinch was the only one who seemed to agree with Carter. “Look, the general’s reasons are his own. We don’t have to understand them or agree with them, but we **do** need to support him…and that means we can’t ruin this for General Klink, okay?”

“Thank you, Kinch, for getting it,” muttered Hogan. “Look, after all is said and done, you guys can go. I still need to settle things here… **alone** ,” he stressed. “I’ve got some last minute things to handle here. You know, officer stuff.” He smiled. “Besides, you guys have your own commissions to go receive in London.”

At the shocked look on his mens’ faces, he smiled. “C’mon, you didn’t honestly think I forgot about any of you guys, did you? I’ve taken care of anything…and no, I’m not telling any of you what I put you in for,” he added as they opened their mouths to say something. “You’ll just have to go there and see for yourself. And London promised they wouldn’t say anything to any of you either,” he said smugly, feeling satisfaction at covering all his bases. “So I suggest as soon as everything is done here that you guys get going.”

Burkhalter had been watching the conversation between the former prisoners with interest. A smile played over his lips as he watched Hogan skillfully handle his men. He had to admit that the American appeared to be a good leader, seeing as how none of his men argued about his decision. Unlike Hogan, his subordinates seemed to question him at every turn. Which reminded him…

 **“KLINK! ARE YOU GOING TO STAY IN THERE AND ADMIRE YOURSELF ALL DAY, OR ARE YOU GOING TO COME BACK OUT HERE? SOME OF US HAVE OTHER THINGS TO DO TODAY!”** yelled Burkhalter in frustration. He sighed and looked at Hogan. “That man spends more time getting ready than any _fräulein_ I have ever known! And he is so vain!”

Hogan had to chuckle at that observation, because he knew the last part to be true. He’d seen the new general admiring himself in a mirror often enough, after all. “Well, I’m not gonna argue with you there, General.” He would have said more on that subject, but that’s when Klink chose to reappear. Hogan looked him up and down, nodding approvingly before looking at the British corporal. “You do great work, Newkirk. I like it.”

“Thank you, sir. But I can’t take all the credit. Me magic ‘ands did mos’ the work. I jus’ told ‘em what to do is all,” replied Newkirk. He glanced over at Klink. “Well sir, ‘ow does it fit you then? All righ’ I s’pose?”

Klink just stared at the Englander with a look of wonder on his face. “ _Ja_ , perfectly! I...I am just surprised, that is all. It is not that it took me long to put on the new uniform, but to make sure I was not hallucinating when I looked in the mirror.”

The _Luftwaffe_ general’s uniform didn’t look that much different from Klink’s old one, although of course some things were different. Instead of being a blue-gray, the pants were dark blue and had two thick white stripes running up the sides. Instead of being blue-gray, the uniform jacket was dark blue. The collar insignia looked mostly like the old one, except it only had one eagle instead of three.

In addition, both it and the oak leaf cluster were now silver and against a light gold background instead of gray against a yellow background. The edge of it was trimmed in silver as well. On the shoulders, the insignia had changed from gray braids against a yellow background to silver braids against a light gold background.

Klink’s new sleeve insignia had changed from a silver eagle in flight carrying a swastika to a light gold eagle in flight carrying a swastika with a light gold stripe underneath it. There was no silver background for this insignia, however. The coat hung draped over Klink’s arm, as he hadn’t put it on. Instead of being gray with a wool collar, the coat was dark blue with a white on the inside flaps.

Though he couldn’t see it, Hogan knew Newkirk had put the appropriate shoulder, sleeve and collar insignia on the coat as well in the correct places; the Englishman was nothing if not detailed when he made something. Finally, Klink’s cap’s insignia had changed as well, but not by much. Everything that had been silver before was now gold, including the double braid on the cap.

All in all, a good look for the tall German. Hogan left himself smile as Klink spoke. “No worries, General Klink. But you’ll have plenty of time to admire yourself later. These two gentlemen,” he motioned to Burkhalter and Hochstetter, “don’t have all day. So, if you could just come sit back down, that’d be great.”

He had used Klink’s new title on purpose and watched the older man swell with pride. Had Klink ever actually stood up tall and straight before? If he had, Hogan couldn’t recall seeing it. _Not that he’s ever really had a reason to before,_ his conscious whispered. _You’ve done plenty to knock him down!_

Hogan rolled his eyes at this not-so-subtle reminder of why he’d made that promise to himself long ago. _It was necessary for the war effort, so lay off!_ he thought to himself. _Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that, Rob,_ it replied snidely. Whatever…he could argue with himself later. Right now, he needed to focus! As Klink sat back down in his chair, Hogan turned to the fat general. “General, you want to do this or should I?”

**_ Another surprise... _ **

“By all means, go ahead and award them, Hogan. My patience is quickly wearing thin,” replied Burkhalter. He handed Hogan a jumble of metal and ribbon, along with a few pieces of paper. “Since you say you speak German, I am going to guess that you read it as well?” The American nodded and so did Burkhalter.

“Good, good. The order goes Second Class, First Class and then the Merit one. The ribbon bar goes with the Second Class award. Save the one with the blue ribbon for last. Oh, and Hogan?” When the former senior POW officer looked at him, he added, “It is customary to read out the name of the award and what it is being given for. Let me know if you wish for help with translating it.”

“Yeah, that’ll be the day pigs fly,” scoffed Newkirk. “General Burkhalter, the day this man,” he pointed at Hogan, “asks anyone for ‘elp is the day the bloomin’ British Empire uses teabags instead of loose-leaf tea!” He glared at his fellow comrades-in-arms. “Don’t look at me like now, you lot all know it’s true. Stubborn as a ruddy goat, the general is. ‘E never asks for ‘elp, even when ‘e needs it.”

Hogan gave the English corporal a false smile. “Newkirk?” he asked sweetly.

“Yeah, Guv’nor?” replied Newkirk with a smirk.

“Shut up. I’m not that stubborn,” retorted Hogan.

From all around him came a chorus of “That’s a lie!” Hogan blinked; had his men all just said that? More importantly, had the two German generals agreed with his men? Hogan knew that Hochstetter hadn’t said anything, because there was no mistaking that gravelly voice and he hadn’t heard it just now.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard a peep so far out of the normally irate major, which was starting to concern him. He looked around him curiously. Seeing the look on both Burkhalter and Klink’s faces, he had to conclude that they had. You couldn’t miss the smile on either man’s face. “Well, so much for loyalty,” he grumbled.

“Can I help it if – for once – your men agree with me?” inquired Klink with a smirk. “I have told you countless times before Hogan, you have a mulish streak a mild wide. And apparently, I am not alone in that assessment.”

Deciding to ignore that comment – mostly because he couldn’t deny it – Hogan put the awards in his lap and sorted through them. Then he sifted through the papers until he found the first one he needed. “Moving on with my day,” he said dryly. “I have here four awards for you, _Kommandant_.”

He read from a piece of paper, his German flawless as he spoke before translating everything into English. “For exceptional service not in direct connection with combat – I’m going to guess that’s regarding his perfect ‘no escape’ record here at Stalag 13, if I’m not mistaken, General Burkhalter?” he asked. The fat general nodded, so Hogan continued on. “Anyway…Wilhelm Klink, you are hereby awarded the War Merit Cross with swords, Second Class.”

He handed Klink a silver cross with swords crossed behind it. It had a black, red & white ribbon to hang it by from the uniform. “It says here that you’re supposed to fasten this through the second buttonhole. So, here’s the paper that goes with it. I’m guessing that it’s supposed to prove that you didn’t steal the award or something.” He also handed Klink a ribbon bar that was black in the middle, with a vertical white stripe on either side and a vertical red stripe on the very ends. “General Burkhalter says this goes with it.”

Then he held up the next award. It looked just like the first one, except it had no ribbon. Instead, it had eight loops on the back. “Okay, this is a weird design,” muttered Hogan as he looked at it. Looking for the next piece of paper and finding it, he looked back at Klink and spoke again. “Again, for exceptional service not in direct connection with combat…Wilhelm Klink, you are hereby awarded the War Merit Cross with swords, First Class.”

He handed Klink the award. “I guess you’re supposed to wear this on the breast pocket of your uniform jacket, but it doesn’t say which one.” Handing Klink the paper, he added, “I’d suggest you put it on the right breast pocket, sir…the other one looks kind of crowded.”

Looking at the third award, Hogan held up a yet another version of the War Merit Cross. This one looked like the War Merit Cross with swords, Second Class, complete with the same color ribbon…except that this ribbon was clearly made to be worn around the neck. Seeing as there were only two pieces of paper left, it wasn’t hard to figure out which one was for the correct award. “Okay, so for – oh, you’ve **got** to be kidding me,” said Hogan in disbelief as he glanced it Burkhalter. “How many friggin’ awards do you Germans have for the same thing?”

Shrugging, Burkhalter shrugged and smiled faintly. “Klink might be a _dummkopf_ at times, but his perfect ‘no escape’ record made **me** look very good in Berlin. And it is also the only reason I never sent him to the Russian Front!” he added with a frown. “I thought this seemed appropriate. Besides, the War Merit Cross is a progressive award; you have to earn the Second Class and the First Class awards first. I may be a general, but even I cannot circumvent the rules of the _Wehrmacht_.”

Hogan considered this and concluded that Burkhalter had a point. “Okay, I guess that’s fair.” He turned back to Klink. “As I started to say before, this award is for exceptional service not in direct connection with combat.” Hogan was successfully able to avoid rolling his eyes, but it was difficult. “Wilhelm Klink, I hereby present you with the Knights Cross of the War Merit Cross with swords.” He handed Klink the award, which the tall German took with trembling hands as he tried to fasten it around his own neck.

But Klink’s slender fingers were shaking so badly, he managed to drop the award in his lap instead. _Why are his hands shaking?_ wondered Hogan. _You’d think somebody was going to assault him or something. Geez!_ Sighing, the American said, “Here, let me help you out with that, _Kommandant_. Hand me that and lean forward.” Klink obliged and felt the award fastened around his neck. “There you go.” He studied the older man for a moment. “Hey, it looks good!”

Handing the most recent award paper to Klink, Hogan cleared his throat. “Alrighty then…last but not least, we have this.” He held up the last award. It was a gold iron cross dangling from a blue ribbon. “According to this paper, this award is for twenty-five years of service in the _Wehrmacht_. Wilhelm Klink, I hereby present you with the _Wehrmacht_ Long Service Award, First Class.” He handed Klink the last award and the accompanying paper. “And again, you’re supposed to wear this on the breast pocket of your uniform jacket, but it doesn’t say which one.”

Brushing of his hands, Hogan smiled. “Congratulations again, sir. Would you mind standing up?” He looked around at the rest of the men gathered in the room. “And everyone else as well?” They all stood, thought Carter had to set down the bundle of cloth he was holding first. Hochstetter stood as well under silent protest after another warning glare from Burkhalter.

Snapping to attention, Hogan looked at the once-again confused German officer – thoroughly enjoying the fruits of his labor – and stood at attention. “Gentleman, may I present to you…General Klink!” He offered the older man a real salute for once, not the flippant one he usually gave. As he did so, he gave every man on his team a look that said, ‘I know you don’t like him much, but just do it.’

It was obvious that none of his men were happy about this, but they all copied Hogan dutifully. The fat general saluted Klink also, though it took an actual elbow to the side from Burkhalter before Major Hochstetter got with the program.

Grinning so hard he thought his face might crack, Klink stood at attention himself and returned the salute. “Thank you, General Hogan,” he replied. _How nice of Hogan to do this for me. Perhaps I have misjudged him,_ thought Klink. Something told him that this wasn’t the end of his time with Robert Hogan, and that something was probably his experience with the wily American talking.

On his end, Hochstetter sullenly sat back down as soon as the salute was returned and crossed his arms in silent annoyance. After everyone was sitting again, Hogan looked like he still had something to say. Klink saw it and grew suspicious as he rolled his eyes. _I knew it! I knew that this promotion was not all he had up his sleeve!_ “I am very appreciative of all you have done, Hogan, make no mistake. But just what are you planning now?” he asked warily, not sure he wanted to know.

“Sir, I’m insulted. You think I’m planning something? Why, I’m as pure as the driven snow.” Hogan gave him his most innocent look, which failed when he grinned due to LeBeau saying “That’s the biggest lie I have ever heard you say, _Général_. And I’ve heard you say much that would be considered a lie.”

Looking bewildered, Carter asked “I thought snow was white?” In an attempt to be helpful, he added, “But soot is black though! Now pure as soot, that I’ll believe sir.”

“Carter…you’re not helping,” replied Hogan in amusement, used to the younger man’s naiveté by now. He looked at the _Kommandant_. “Alright, you got me. There is something else, actually.” Looking over at his demolitions expert, he asked “Carter, could you hand me the other uniform?” Nodding, the young sergeant replied, “You got it, sir.”

Klink nodded his head, pleased that at least Hogan admitted it. “I knew it. Nothing is ever simple with you, Hogan.” He watched as the blond-haired American sergeant handed Hogan a pile of brown cloth. “What are you doing now, Hogan? What is that?”

“Well _Kommandant_ , this is an American uniform…one of an American brigadier general, to be precise. You wanted to know what I was talking with General Patton about, right?” When the German nodded, Hogan continued. “I wanted to know if he could swing it with President Truman to make you a general in the United States Army Air Force. I –”

“Sir, you’ve got to be kidding me.” All eyes went to Kinch, who looked stunned. “You want to make him a general in our military?” The radioman shook his head. “They’ll never go for it, General. I know the Allied High Command owes you a debt that they can never repay, but this is a bit much! Even for you,” he added as an afterthought.

“Actually, they’ve already agreed,” replied Hogan calmly. “General Patton said it was fine, and he said he’d tell them. I just have to radio them later on and let them know what the decision is. Then London will airdrop us the papers and it’s done.”

LeBeau let loose a rapid-fire string of French nobody could understand, but everyone was sure it was obscenities. Meanwhile, Newkirk looked at Kinch and nodded sagely. “That tears it. I told you lot long ago ‘e’s completely barmy. I say the Guv’nor’s gone ‘round the bend. ‘E has to ‘ave, nobody’ll ever go for that!” Looking at his commanding officer, he said, “Such a shame too, Guv’nor. You lasted this long.”

“Newkirk, I’m not crazy,” replied Hogan wearily. “They owe me – and by extension, you guys – more than they can ever know. Or have you forgotten the entire 6th SS Panzer division London wanted us to hold up for three days? Us…just five men! They can just deal with my request,” said Hogan angerly.

Turning back to Klink, Hogan said, “ **Anyway** , like I was saying before sir…the offer’s there, if you want it. I don’t think there’s going to be much call for a _Luftwaffe_ general – or any other rank – now that the Third Reich has crumbled, and if nothing else the Russians that are still in Germany aren’t going to be overly friendly towards you if you’re dressed like that.”

Klink picked up the brown uniform and looked it over. It wasn’t too bad, but brown wasn’t his color. He should know, since he’d worn an American uniform before when he and Hogan had travelled to London to steal a plane. Not only that, but he felt that joining the United States Army Air Force was definitely considered treason, and Klink was still a man of honor.

“Hogan,” he began quietly, trying not to offend his brat. “That is a most generous offer, and I deeply appreciate it. However, I am afraid I cannot accept it. I am still a loyal German, and to do as you are suggesting would go against my code of honor. I shall stay in the _Luftwaffe_.” He handed Hogan the American general’s uniform. “Here, you take it. You will need a new uniform for yourself anyway, and we are the same size. A good solution, _ja_?” he asked with a smile.

But the American shook his head. “That’s true, but you keep it…you’ll need it in the future. And I figured you’d feel that way – not gonna lie – but I had to give you the choice. Besides, I have a back-up plan.” He winked and grinned cheerfully at the older man, who sighed and sank back into his chair.

“You have yet still **another** plan? Hogan, you are going to give me a heart attack from stress before I can retire in one piece!” Klink swung his lower arm and fist in a quick motion. “ _Mmmmpf!_ You are a true troublemaker, do you know that?” Something Hogan had just said decided to sink in as he asked in a confused voice, “Why would I need it in the future?”

“So I’ve heard, sir, so I’ve heard,” Hogan deadpanned, trying not to remember the reason for that particular nickname. Unfortunately, his men were sharp and didn’t miss it. They gave him questioning glances and he shrugged. “The _Kommandant_ here seems to think I enjoy causing trouble. Isn’t that the strangest thing you’ve ever heard? I’d never do such a thing.”

Hogan had to applaud his men’s acting skills, since they instantly looked like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Apparently, they’d watched him more than he thought and were quick studies. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you want to play dress up?” After seeing the exasperated look on Klink’s face – a sign his patience was wearing thin – he just shook his head and added, “Can’t tell you that yet sir, but I promise you’ll want it later.”

Carter was the first to speak. “You? Cause trouble? That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard, boy – I mean, General!” he said hastily.

“General Hogan, a troublemaker? That’s rubbish!” exclaimed Newkirk.

“ _Non_ , _Le Général_ is not a troublemaker,” added LeBeau.

“I think he’s got you confused with someone else, General,” Kinch said.

Klink frowned. He could appreciate Hogan’s men backing up his claim of innocence, even if it were utterly ridiculous and the two generals both knew it. Still, that didn’t change the truth. “If all of you truly believe that, you have not been paying attention very well. Stalag 13 is known for the strange things that happen here, and I have good reason to believe that this man,” he pointed at Hogan, “and his monkeyshines are behind it!”

Not bothering to deny this observation – since he would prove in a few minutes that Klink was correct – Hogan pushed on. “In any event, after I let London know your decision, they’ll be airdropping me some papers for you, sir. I just have to look them over and make sure they’re correct before I give them to you.”

Klink’s brow furrowed as he considered this. “Papers? What are you talking about, Hogan?”

Hogan rolled his eyes. “Papers. You know, like identification papers? It’s nothing major, just an official document with the United States of America’s official seal on it. It’ll have my signature and all the departments I’m affiliated with, along with phone numbers.” He stuffed his hands in the jacket pocket of his bomber jacket.

“Basically, it’s a really long note saying you’re a recognized friend of the Allies, you’re not a threat to anyone, etcetera. I’m good, sir, don’t get me wrong. But I can’t go everywhere with you for the rest of your life. And I can’t guarantee that some _Russkie_ isn’t going to take one look at you and shoot first, ask questions later,” Hogan said.

Raising his eyebrows, Hogan added, “That’s also why I want you to keep the American uniform…if you ever visit the United States, our boys might not take too kindly to you wearing a German uniform, especially one of a general. But don’t worry, you’ll also have a paper with all the seals and stuff saying you’re authorized to wear it, it’s an honorary rank in our Army Air Force and so on.”

Burkhalter had been listening to this exchange with a half-smile on his face. He knew Hogan was well-connected with the right people, but just **how** well-connected he hadn’t known before now! “It seems to me, Klink,” Burkhalter said conversationally, “that General Hogan is very well-connected to the Allied brass. And he appears to have thought of everything.” He nodded to Hogan. “My thanks to you, Hogan, for your thoroughness.”

“Aw, it’s really not a problem, General Burkhalter,” replied Hogan. “We’ve both gone to a lot of trouble here, and I’d really like to keep the general here alive after all this, you know?”

“Indeed. I can understand that, although I am not sure why,” remarked Burkhalter.

Hogan sighed. “At this point, it’s on principle, General.” Looking at Klink again, he spoke. “Like I said, London will airdrop the papers I need to look over…I estimate it’ll be in about three days, maybe less if they put a rush on it. So, I hope you don’t mind hanging out here for that time.”

Klink gave a bitter laugh as his bottled up frustrations and concerns spilled out. “Mind? Of course I do not mind. I have been here for the last three years, so what is three more days? Failing that…let me think. My country is in ruins, I am not sure if my mother, my brother Wolfgang and my nephews are even still alive, and I cannot think of where I will go after I leave here. So no, I most certainly do not mind.”

His normally somewhat deep voice rose in pitch as Klink continued on. “In addition to all those things, I have no idea what will happen to the men under my command. Yes, I saw them all leave except Sergeant Schultz and Corporal Langenscheidt, but that means nothing. They could have been headed to…to…to a spot to be **shot** , for all I know!”

Klink was breathing hard at the end of this little speech. “This is all very confusing, and I am frustrated beyond belief right now. And I…I am scared, Hogan. I am worried about my men.” It galled him to admit that in front of everybody, but it needed to be said before he lost his nerve. “They are all decent people and they do not deserve to die! They may not like me – and that is fine, I am long since used to that – but that is not an acceptable fate for them! They did nothing wrong except work here as guards, and –”

Hogan held up his hands in a ‘calm down’ gesture as he interrupted Klink. He didn’t need the older man working himself up into a panic attack! “Whoa…take it easy there, sir. Nobody’s going to die. Your men left to catch the train back to their respective homes. They’re not dead, but they’ll probably sleep great tonight in a warm house. As for Sergeant Schultz and Corporal Langenscheidt, they’re going to be hailed as war heroes by the Allies, okay? So just calm down. Do you really think I’d let anything bad happen to them?” Hogan demanded. “Langenscheidt’s an okay guy, and Schultz, well…he’s our strudel king.”

Nodding, the small Frenchman said “ _Oui_ , Schultzie is my strudel buddy. Despite his heritage, he loves fine French cooking. Unlike **some** people,” he added, glaring at Newkirk. “The English are barbarians when it comes to food.”

“Oy, I resent tha’, Louis! Some of us have refined tastes and don’t think **snails** are a delicacy!” said Newkirk hotly. He folded his arms and added, “Besides, ol’ Schultzie loves **any** food, not jus’ ‘fine French cooking’.”

Hogan rubbed his temples. “You guys, can you have this discussion later?” He gave the new German general a weary look. “You see? This is the type of thing I have to deal with all the time. And you wanted **me** to keep everyone out of trouble. Do you see now how impossible that request was?” Rolling his eyes, he added, “This has been an often-argued about subject since LeBeau got here.”

Klink had to concede, as he had before, that perhaps his request had been a tad unreasonable. Still, he would not be swayed. “If you were normal prisoners of war, it would not have been so impossible for you,” he argued. “The very fact you have mentioned London airdropping you anything – like that is a normal occurrence and has happened before – speaks volumes in itself.”

Ignoring that comment, Hogan continued on as if Klink hadn’t spoken. “Well, like I said, they’ll be taken care of. Schultz might be a little dim at times, but’s overall he’s alright. As for your family, just give me their last known addresses and I’ll have it checked into. Okay? Do you feel better now?” he asked, eyeing the German general as if he might go over the edge at any minute.

“Dim, he says,” Klink replied. “Dim is hardly the word I would use to describe Sergeant Schultz. While he might be *a likeable clod, he is still an idiot.” He glanced at the seemingly unconcerned American. “And just how do you propose to do that? Wait, do not tell me.” He smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “You have yet more tunnels. Tunnels you have managed to dig right under my camp!”

Smirking, Hogan replied, “That’s fair. But look, we’ve got Colonel Crittendon on our side. That man messes up everything and anything, even when he’s trying to be helpful.” He stood up and brushed off his pants. “Actually, yeah. Papa Bear needs a den, you know?” He glanced at Hochstetter, who seemed to be at his breaking point.

Deciding to goad Hochstetter into exploding now rather than in the tunnels and risk causing a cave-in, he added, “That’s right, you heard me. **I** am Papa Bear, Major Hochstetter. Not that you can do anything about it now,” he said smugly. Looking at General Burkhalter, he asked, “So, you guys wanna see our cellar? We’ve been doing some home renovation, and frankly I’m proud of it.”

**_ Major Hochstetter loses his cool... _ **

But before anyone could reply, there was a sudden, earsplitting eruption of sound. **“BAH! TRAITORS, ALL OF YOU! I WILL HAVE ALL OF YOUR HEADS! ESPECIALLY YOU, KLINK!”** Well, it was about time! Hogan had begun to wonder at this point if the Gestapo major would ever say anything again.

Major Hochstetter had finally lost his cool, and he leapt up from the sofa. He began furiously pacing, alternately glaring at everyone in the room. **“*HEADS WILL ROLL! I WILL HAVE YOU ALL SHOT FOR THIS TREASON! *I WILL SURROUND ZIS CAMP WITH A RING OF STEEL, WITH MY FINEST GESTAPO OFFICERS!”** The irritable man was madder than a pissed off hornet, screaming and waving his hands in the air. If he hadn’t been screaming so loudly, Hogan would have egged him on just to watch the show!

“Oww, that was my eardrum,” Hogan complained. “You know, you’re awfully shouty for a guy who’s only a major, Hochstetter. Is there a reason why you’re always yelling at everyone? A lack of personality is no reason to scream all the time. No woman is ever going to want someone who’s perpetually mad constantly.”

Hogan saw grins appear on everyone’s faces, so he pressed on. “Geez, and here I thought Grumpy the dwarf was an insult. Apparently, it’s an accurate nickname.” He gave the irate major a calculating look, wondering how Hochstetter possibly thought he was going to pull off his latest threats. “You’ll surround the camp with your finest Gestapo officers? Really?”

The American officer barked out a bitter laugh. “And just where are you going to find them? This I have to hear, because everyone in the Gestapo and the SS has fled for parts unknown. They’re all afraid of being tried for war crimes and executed by a firing squad. Seeing as both the SS and Gestapo is a considered a criminal organization now and membership in either one is grounds for an automatic death, they’re right to run and hide.”

He shrugged. “Somehow, I don’t think you can surround anything by yourself, Major. And the SS weasel with the glasses is dead too, so who exactly are you going to complain about everything to?” He tossed an apologetic look at Burkhalter for this callous comment, who waved it off.

Hochstetter was still pacing angerly, waving his hands around and generally looking pissed off. **“I DO NOT CARE! I WILL FIND SOME ANYWAY, SOME THAT ARE NOT COWARDS! AND THEN I WILL…I WILL…”** Abruptly, he trailed off and sank down onto the sofa. His anger seemed to fade as the last words the American had spoken appeared to sink in. “ _SS-Reichsführer_ Himmler…is dead?” the major asked weakly.

“No, I do not believe it!” Hochstetter looked at Burkhalter for confirmation of this, since he didn’t trust Hogan as far as he could throw him. “ _Herr_ General, is that –”

Seeing the stricken look on Burkhalter’s face and the slow nod, he cut himself off. “Oh. I see,” he muttered in a rare show of sadness. “I am…I am sorry for your loss, _Herr_ General.”

Hochstetter paused before continuing, thinking how best to phrase his thoughts. “ _Herr Reichsführer,_ he –” He cut himself off as he considered what he was going to say next. “He was a hard man, and a difficult man to work under for sure. Himmler always demanded nothing but the best from those under his command, and he constantly challenged us to exceed our own exceptions. Still, that is life in the Gestapo…and the SS as well, I am sure. He was a good man irregardless, and I will morn his loss.”

He looked at Hogan, who seemed to be a regular fountain of information today. “I am going to assume – by the fact that everyone is just sitting here calmly while discussing this – that the _Führer_ is dead too?” Hogan nodded, and Hochstetter blanched. This day just kept getting better and better, while his looming fate looked bleaker by the minute. “What about _Herr_ Goebbels?” Hogan shook his head and made a slicing motion across his throat.

Grimacing and processing that information, Hochstetter really didn’t want to know what he asked next. Unfortunately, he had to know for his own piece of mind. “What of _Reichsmarshall_ Göring…does he still live?” the short man inquired. It was no secret that he personally thought little of the _Luftwaffe_ , but his need for information overrode his dislike. And he needed to know if Göring needed any type of help, should he still be alive.

Not that he was quite sure how he could do anything right now if Göring **did** , but he would try his best! They could still snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. It was possible to do, since people had done it before. The history books told as much, if one read between the lines.

At Hogan’s nod, he relaxed. That was good news, and it meant he had a chance to help rebuild Germany the right way. He would find Göring and then they would pick up where Hitler had left off. He, Wolfgang Hochstetter, would be a name to feared all across the world when they were done! The Gestapo and the _Luftwaffe_ would mend their fences and do things right this time around. And he would lead both the Gestapo and the SS in Himmler’s stead. His day was looking up!

But his thoughts of reclaiming glory were somewhat squashed when the American general added, “But he’s in British custody.”

 _British custody? Those are less than ideal circumstances,_ Hochstetter thought. _Still, it is doable. I just have to find him, which means I need to wait for my opportunity to get away from Burkhalter. I will watch and observe, then escape when the time is right._ The Gestapo man had a plan, which he considered a good thing…some plan was better than no plan.

“How did they die? Or do you know?” he asked Hogan, not really expecting the American to know.

But to his absolute surprise, he got an answer. “To my knowledge, Hitler shot himself in the head with a pistol at the same time he bit down on a cyanide capsule, Goebbels shot himself in the head the very next day, and Himmler bit down on a hidden cyanide capsule when the British officer interrogating him tried to look in his mouth,” replied Hogan simply. “Face it…the Third Reich is finished. For better or worse, the war is over.”

Hochstetter sank back into the sofa, obviously thrown for a loop by all the bad news he’d just gotten. “Of course. Well, why not?” He threw up his hands in frustration, angry that the regime he’d supported so fanatically had fallen. In his eyes, Hitler had failed the German people. “I have gotten nothing but bad news today. At least I served my country faithfully.”

He decided to leave out that he had also gotten what he considered good news as he pointed an accusing finger at Hogan. “And I knew you were Papa Bear! I **knew** it!” Hochstetter exclaimed as he looked at Klink. “Klink, did I not tell you numerous times that zis man was Papa Bear? I was right!” he finished triumphantly.

“Yeah, you were, Major.” Hogan gave him a look that could almost be considered pity, but not quite. “If you promise not to start shouting again and cause a massive cave-in, my men and I will give you guys the grand tour downstairs.” He stood up again, adding, “I need to radio London anyway so they can make those papers and send them over.”

Hochstetter nodded, still feeling both numb and frustrated. Yet he really wanted to see for himself the proof of his accusations, as well as prove it to the idiot otherwise known as Wilhelm Klink! “ _Ja_ , that I can promise. I do not like dirt much, so that would be bad. Lead the way,” he said, standing up and stretching.

The other men stood as well and made their way to the stove, which Hogan moved out of the way to reveal the hole. Hogan’s men climbed down first, followed by Burkhalter, Klink, Hochstetter and finally Hogan. The younger man didn’t trust Hochstetter to go first, and he sure as hell didn’t trust him to go last!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: What I wrote regarding the events with Göring, Himmler and Goebbels are mostly true. I had to change some things for my story to work, but it’s about 90% accurate. I just adjusted dates a little. I based Klink’s general insignia and uniform colors off of General Biedenbender from the show (the one that shot Hogan down.)**
> 
> **The crush cap description was from seeing a picture of the type of cap General Douglas MacArthur wore on Google. I just changed it from a tan fabric to a brown leather, like the one Hogan is shown to wear in the show.**
> 
> **I consulted Wikipedia, and during WW2 the rank of _Brigadegeneral_ (what is considered equivalent to a Brigadier General, or a 1 star general today)** **didn’t exist. It wasn’t until the _Bundeswehr_ (armed forces) was formed in 1955 that a _Generalmajor_ became equal to a Major General (a 2 star general) like it is today.**
> 
> **Also, I again consulted Wikipedia for these awards, and what I wrote is correct. The War Merit Cross was awarded in classes, so for Klink to be eligible to receive the Knights Cross of the War Merit Cross, he had to first receive the War Merit Cross, Second Class and the War Merit Cross, First Class. As for the Wehrmacht Long Service Award, it included a person’s time in the military from WW1 as well as WW2. It’s thought that Klink joined the military in 1914 when WW1 started; therefore he would have been in the military for 31 years by 1945 and eligible for this award.**


	9. Unexpected Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All has been revealed, but obviously there’s still a lot of questions to be asked. And General Burkhalter has an announcement to make as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Heer_ = The German name for their Army  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Reichsmarks_ = The currency of Nazi Germany. (It was discontinued in 1948.)  
>  _Der Führer_ = The leader (Adolf Hitler’s title)  
>  _Oui_ = French for the word ‘yes’  
>  _André_ = French for the name ‘Andrew’  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Ja_ =Yes  
>  _Reichsmarshall_ = Marshall of the Reich (Hermann Göring’s title)  
>  _SS-Reichsführer_ = Leader of the Reich SS (Heinrich Himmler’s title)  
>  _Luft Stalag_ = Stalag is short for _‘Stammlager’_ , which is short for _‘Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager’_. It translates to ‘Air Force prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _Pièrre_ = French for the name ‘Peter’  
>  _Magnifiquement_ = Beautifully  
>  _Schnell_ = Quickly/hurry up  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Raus!_ = Out!  
>  _le Commandant_ = French for ‘the Commander’  
>  _Général_ = French for the word ‘General’  
>  _Oflag_ = Short for _‘Offizierslager’_ , which translates to ‘Officer's camp’  
>  _Jawohl_ = Yes sir  
>  _Boche_ = French slang, which translates to ‘German’ & is a derogatory term.  
>  _Mon_ = French for the word ‘My’  
>  _Numéro un_ = French for ‘Number one’  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Jerry_ = British slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans  
>  _Bolsheviks_ = German slang, which is a derogatory term for the Russians.  
>  _Mein Kampf_ = Hitler’s autobiography, which translates to ‘My Struggle’  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Auf Wiedersehen_ = Goodbye

**_Below Klink’s quarters, down in the tunnels… _ **

As Hogan stepped off the ladder, he looked around at the strange group. “Well, here we are,” he said cheerfully. “Welcome to our lovely basement. It’s a bit dark and a bit damp, but it works for us.” He motioned for LeBeau to take everyone else and start to tour, indicating that he wanted to speak with the _Kommandant_ alone. LeBeau nodded and led the way, Newkirk bringing up the rear.

After the rest of the group had left, Klink looked around him. The ceilings were about seven feet high and had lanterns hanging from them. How in the world had Hogan and his men managed to get that high in the air?! Nobody here was seven feet tall, not even Schultz! Not that Schultz was a prisoner of war, mind you, but he was still the tallest man here. And speaking of his Sergeant of the Guard, Klink had a question.

“Hogan, where is Sergeant Schultz? I know he talks to you and your men in Barracks 2 quite often, so I do not believe you would not wish him to see this.” God only knows it had gotten to the point that if Klink needed the fat sergeant, there was a good chance he would find him in Hogan’s barracks. “For that matter, where is Corporal Langenscheidt? You said they would both be considered war heroes by the Allies, so surely that means they should be here to see this?”

Hogan looked amused. “Langenscheidt? Well, he…uh…he’s claustrophobic, sir. He’s not real fond of tunnels or enclosed spaces. Not real fond of the dark either, which is why he requests to work during the day when possible.” His look changed to one of embarrassment. “As for Schultz, well…look, we’d like to have a ladder to climb back up, if you catch my drift. He’s a big guy, you know? Besides, I’m pretty sure Langenscheidt has an inkling about us already. And Schultzie **never** wants to know anything anyway, so we didn’t bother telling him.” He mentally crossed his fingers and prayed the older man never found out the truth regarding the fat sergeant’s unwilling knowledge. That was one thing Hogan **wasn’t** planning on tell him!

Frowning, Klink considered this. Yes, Langenscheidt did usually request to work during the day when possible, but how would Hogan know that? _Perhaps he is just observant,_ his inner voice said. That didn’t feel right, but he could always ask the younger man later, after they were alone. “And just how would Langenscheidt know about this?” Klink asked evenly.

He was proud of himself for not dragging Hogan back up the ladder by the ear and showing the wily American **exactly** what he thought of all these secrets! Only the fact that they weren’t entirely alone – as he knew they’d have to catch up to the others at some point – had him resisting the urge to do so. _But later on, Hogan had better watch out!_ A smile crept over Klink’s face as he imagined finally getting some much-desired answers from Hogan later on. “How did you keep Stalag 13 from becoming a sinkhole?”

“Oh, that’s easy enough. These tunnels are well supported, since fixing cave-ins weren’t on our to-do list.” Hogan had to smile at the memory of the so-called ‘mineral spring’ that had appeared in Stalag 13 briefly before vanishing after the last cave-in. “It’s happened before, and it was a real pain to fix.”

As he noticed the ‘nasty-happy’ smile appear on Klink’s face, Hogan coughed to avoid showing nervousness. He didn’t gulp, but it was difficult. Even if nobody else in the group knew, Hogan knew exactly what that smile meant, and it didn’t mean being able to sit down easily! “You sent him and Corporal Langenscheidt with us to Paris, remember? To get that painting replaced?”

“Yes, I remember,” replied Klink evenly. “But it turned out the one that had been burned was already a copy.” He frowned at the memory of the entire event, which thankfully hadn’t ended with him at the Russian Front. “But what does that have to do with anything? He was one of the men sent to guard you.”

The younger man nodded as he continued his latest whopper. “Sir, have you **ever** known things to happen normally when I’m around? We ran into some Gestapo agents that tried to interfere with what you’d sent us to do. Sergeant Schultz lied through his teeth to them and Langenscheidt just went along with it.” He shrugged as he mentally altered what had really happened in his head, leaving out the fact that the fat sergeant had actually been dressed as a general.

He didn’t need Schultz getting in trouble for trying to help them, since Klink was still his commanding officer. “If he didn’t have at least an inkling we were up to no good then, he would have to be stupid…and he’s not. More than that, he would have questioned why you trusted us to get the job done.” Hogan just hoped that vague answer would satisfy Klink!

Thankfully, that answer seemed to calm the older man down. “Very well, Hogan. You can tell me more later on.” He gave Hogan a look that promised painful retribution when they were alone. “Now, show me these tunnels of yours.” Oh, but he was going to have some serious words with the American general later on! As Hogan led the way, Klink had to marvel again at the brilliance of all of this. He just hoped the stress wouldn’t give him a heart attack, because dying in a secret underground tunnel inside a POW camp would not be a pretty end.

**_ An unexpected surprise… _ **

Later on, after everyone had exited the tunnels, Hogan sent Kinch, Carter and Newkirk to put on the costumes he wanted to show off. Everyone else had sat down in Klink’s quarters again, and Hogan was tired. Major Hochstetter had asked quite a few questions, and Hogan had answered them all honestly. Needless to say, finding out he had been right all this time but never taken seriously had made the Gestapo man extremely upset. He’d also informed Hochstetter that he would be spending life in prison instead of being shot, since that was a better alternative for him in Hogan’s eyes.

At least it was in the American’s mind, since death was quick. Rotting in prison, on the other hand, would suck. Understandably, the irritable major also wasn’t happy to hear that. But there was nothing for it; even he could only work so many miracles! London had refused to budge any further on the issue when he’d called them, and honestly Hogan hadn’t tried too hard. He felt Hochstetter should count himself lucky already.

Surprisingly, there was a lot of things Hochstetter **hadn’t** asked about, and Hogan wasn’t volunteering information! The American just assumed that the shorter man hadn’t heard about the results of those missions…because he already knew if the foul-tempered man had heard about them, he definitely would have asked more questions.

He’d also told London about the papers he needed, and they had promised to give it the utmost priority after Hogan explained that neither he nor Klink could leave the camp until this was solved. Klink had been understandably surprised to see the radio, Hochstetter had just stared at it like it would do a trick at any minute, and Burkhalter…well, he hadn’t seemed impressed by anything he’d been shown down in the tunnels. Something was deeply wrong here.

As he studied Burkhalter, another thing occurred to Hogan. The fat general hadn’t seemed overly bothered about any of the revelations regarding their secret activities or anything else, and that set off warning bells in the American’s head. He looked over at Burkhalter, who looked entirely too pleased with himself. That alone bothered Hogan, even if the lack of surprise hadn’t already! “Okay General, what’s going on with you? You don’t appear to be surprised by any of this news, and besides that, you look like the cat who ate the canary.”

“’E looks like ‘e ate the canary’s whole bloody family,” muttered Newkirk.

Burkhalter glared at the British corporal before giving Hogan a blank look. “What? There are no canaries here, Hogan. What are you talking about?” he said, sounding annoyed. He had a very good grasp on the English language, but there were still some idioms that escaped him!

Hogan sighed. While he couldn’t expect the Germans to understand every saying in the English language, it was still annoying to have to explain them. “It means you look way too happy and pleased with yourself over there, General.” He shot Newkirk a warning look, which the Englishman promptly ignored. “Even if my corporal decided to be rude about it, which there was no call for. In addition to that, you aren’t acting like any of this is new to you.” He gave the fat general a quizzical look, not overly worried this late in the game but still curious.

In return, Burkhalter gave him a blinding grin; the effect was simultaneously amusing and creepy. Burkhalter **never** smiled, and everyone in this room knew it. Klink had edged his chair away from his commanding officer in preparation for the worst, and even Hochstetter looked a bit unnerved. “Since you have been kind enough to show me what you have been up to, Hogan, I shall do the same,” the general said. “Does –”

It was that moment that Kinch chose to enter the room, wearing a _Heer_ general’s uniform. It was identical to the one that Burkhalter wore. The only difference was the rank insignia indicated that Kinch was a full, four-star general. This meant that he outranked the fat Austrian, who was only a three-star general. “By the order of General Kinchmeyer, stay seated!” said the radioman in a German accent.

Next, Newkirk came out dressed in the costume of a _Luftwaffe_ major. “Major Hoople is here with the counterfeit five thousand _Reichsmarks_ you requested, General Kinchmeyer!” His British accent was completely suppressed, with a rather angry sounding German accent taking its place. In his hand he held a wad of paper bills. “I’ve got me an SS uniform too, but I despise basic black. No matter what the Guv’nor says,” he said with a glare at the new American general. His British accent had returned now, which sounded at odds in comparison with the uniform he wore.

Hogan groaned. “Newkirk, that’s my alias! Get your own,” he replied, sounding mildly irritated. “And you really do *look better in basic black.” He was waiting on the last surprise, which was Carter. _He should be showing up any minute now…_

Finally, Carter burst into the room. _And there he is,_ thought Hogan. Carter’s hair was dyed black with temporary hair dye and combed over his left eye, with a small black mustache in place under his nose. He had on a field gray uniform like the one Hitler had always worn when he made public appearances. Out of the two he’d worn – the other one being a tan color they’d used on a different occasion – he knew Carter preferred the one he had on, mostly because of the memories associated with it!

In addition to all that, all of the medals he wore were correct and placed appropriately. All in all, it was impossible not to know who he was dressed as. “I am _der Führer_! All hail me!” he yelled in Hitler’s voice as he raised his arm in a stiff Nazi salute. As he moved, he imitated Hitler’s walk…which was unmistakable to anyone who’d ever seen him move.

The American general grinned as he remembered Schultz frantically stammering, trying to announce who had arrived but unable to get the words out. Then Klink had asked ‘Adolf’s’ fake staff sarcastically, _“*Well, why didn’t you bring the Führer with you?”_ before seeing Carter in his disguise and saying, _“*I’m glad you did.”_ before giving the required salute and required greeting in Nazi Germany. He’d almost fainted too, and Hogan had been worried that they’d have to have Schultz drag the _Kommandant_ back to his quarters so he wouldn’t freeze in the cold night air.

Hogan also remembered Burkhalter showing up, which wouldn’t have been a problem if Carter had done what he needed to do quicker. However, the young sergeant didn’t get to play German officials often enough for his liking. So when he did, he hammed it up!

Fortunately, Hogan had been able to discreetly get his attention and quietly tell him to get the Austrian general to leave, since he didn’t know if Burkhalter would see through the disguise. The resulting off-the-cuff improvisation had been nothing short of hilarious, and Hogan had almost lost his composure! He still didn’t know how Carter had managed to keep a straight face, because everyone’s expressions had been priceless.

‘Adolf’ had immediately started yelling about his staff. _“*I would have won the war a long time ago if it wasn’t for my generals. *They are ignorant stupid fools who know nothing about war! *All they do is eat, and have good **times!** ” _Then Carter had begun yelling about Burkhalter in particular, having already been on a roll. _“*I have one general who looks like a stuffed goose! *But soon, the goose will hang high by his **heels**!”_ Strangely enough, the Austrian general had quickly decided that he hadn’t wanted to speak with ‘Adolf’ that night after all. In fact, he’d been sure to beat a hasty retreat!

The three former prisoners wearing the costumes looked around at the three German officers, enjoying the various looks on their faces. Burkhalter appeared to be surprised for the first time that day, Klink looked shocked and Hochstetter was visibly upset. _Major Hoople…where have I heard that name before?_ wondered Klink. _And five thousand Reichsmarks…wait a minute…_ The wheels were turning in the German’s head as he tried to make the connection.

Kinch grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth. This was fun! Newkirk stood there, trying to look menacing and in character but not succeeding. Something about the wicked grin he wore ruined the effect. And Carter, well…Carter had a goofy smile on his face as he dropped his arm.

“Boy, that was great!” he exclaimed. “I wish I had a camera to capture this moment.” He looked over at the small Frenchman, who was openly laughing. “Hey Louis, please tell me you’re seeing this.” At the question, LeBeau nodded. “ _Oui_. I am, _André_. Their expressions are priceless!” Then he laughed again.

This time Hochstetter was the first to react. **“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ZIS?”** he screamed. He looked over at Klink and growled, “What exactly have you been letting happen under your very nose, Klink?” His hands were balled into fists and a snarl was painted across his features. As he was busy complaining, the other men took their seats on the floor. They would change back into their own clothes later on.

Surprisingly, Burkhalter was prepared to defend the new general for once…mostly because he might have disliked Klink, but he disliked Hochstetter more. It was beyond the usual _Luftwaffe_ & Gestapo/SS dislike that occurred on principle; he actually **hated** the shorter man with the foul temper. He opened his mouth, but the tall German was quicker.

“Hochstetter, would you shut up already!” Klink snapped, completely omitting use of the other man’s rank and all the formalities for once. He was tired, he was stressed out and he wasn’t sure he could handle any more surprises today. He didn’t need an irate Gestapo major adding to his problems!

“Nobody wants to hear you screaming all the time. _Mein Gott_ , I know you have questions to ask, just like everyone else here. However, please ask them in a normal tone of voice. Nobody here is deaf. Of this, I can assure you.” Klink wasn’t sure where these words or the sudden backbone to say them came from, but it was worth it to finally speak his mind on the matter! _God only knows that menace has spent the last three years yelling at me for just about everything he can think of. And payback feels so good_ , he thought.

Hogan was grinning, enjoying the new backbone that Klink showed. Kinch didn’t laugh, but he was still grinning. Laughter danced in his dark eyes as he shared a look with his commanding officer. Newkirk was snickering, LeBeau was smiling and Carter just looked confused…which was normal for him.

But Klink wasn’t done yet. He was thoroughly enjoying provoking the personal thorn in his side, and he had something else to say. **"You know, Major Hochstetter, I was told that you spoke fluent English, just like I do. Yet your grasp of it seems to be very limited." He ticked the items off on his long fingers as he spoke. "Who is this man? What is this man doing here? Heads will roll. I will surround this camp with a ring of steel."** Klink looked over at his troublemaker, enjoying the fact that his words made the young general smile. "Did I miss anything, Hogan?"

**"You forgot 'Bah!', _Kommandant,_ ” Hogan added helpfully**. He was snickering at Klink's words, knowing that the Gestapo man had to be irritated as all get-out from being put in his place by now. _Guess Klink's got a sense of humor after all,_ he thought. _Who knew?_

It was with immense satisfaction that all the men in the room watched the major snap his mouth shut in surprise. In turn, Hochstetter glared fiercely at Klink, but didn’t let the shock show on his face. _Since when does Klink have a backbone? He has never yelled at me before! Zis promotion has gone to his head,_ the foul-tempered man thought irritably. He didn’t like the fact that he had become predictable regarding what he would say either!

In the chair next to Klink, Burkhalter also closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows in surprise. _Apparently, Klink has the situation handed!_ he thought. The fat general thoroughly enjoyed seeing Hochstetter knocked down a peg himself. His only regret was that he hadn’t been the one to do it.

Burkhalter wasn’t sure where the sudden display of nerve had come from, but he really wished Klink hadn’t waited until after the war ended to find it. He just hoped the other general wouldn’t be impossible to deal with now, because that was a problem he definitely didn’t need. “Sergeant Carter, you are a dead ringer for Hitler. I see how you managed to fool everyone…including myself,” he added dryly. He looked at his subordinate. “And Klink, that was quite a surprise coming from you. Are you feeling well?” he asked the new general.

Klink turned to look at him. “I am quite well, thank you _Herr_ General,” he replied politely. “But like you, I have to deal with this man for the last three years. And he,” he pointed a slender finger at Hochstetter, “has a nasty habit of storming into my camp at will and screaming about everything all the time. One would think that he did not know what a normal tone of voice was,” he added. “He tosses out orders and bosses me around, despite the fact that this is **my** command post and I outranked him by two full ranks at the time! Although it is three now,” Klink finished with a smile.

“Then why did you allow it, Klink?” inquired Burkhalter. “Surely you are aware of military protocol and the hierarchy of ranks, _ja?”_

It was a good question, and Klink considered it thoughtfully. Why **had** he allowed it? Stalag 13 was **his** , damnmit…it wasn’t a Gestapo outpost! Finally, the answer came to him. “I think, _Herr_ General,” he began thoughtfully, “that I was more concerned about keeping the major – and by extension, the Gestapo – happy. If they were happy, they would not harass myself or my prisoners.” He shrugged. “I take my duty seriously, _Herr_ General. No one but yourself, another **_Luftwaffe_** general or _Reichsmarshall_ Göring was going to remove any of them from Stalag 13. Not while I was still in command here.”

The German was sure to stress the word ‘ _Luftwaffe_ ’. “I know you are part of the _Heer_ , General Burkhalter, as I am not blind. However, you are here on _Herr Reichsmarshall’s_ orders, so that is different.” Klink shifted in his seat and folded his arms. “Besides, you know I have no love for the Gestapo. I would tell _Herr Reichsführer_ himself to go to hell in this regard.” Giving Burkhalter a curious glance, he added, “He is not part of the _Luftwaffe_ , and these prisoners are mine to protect. Well, they **were** ,” he amended. “Since the war is over, they are obviously free to go. The point is, no harm was going to come to them as long I was still breathing,” he finished.

Kinch and Hogan had been listening to Klink’s speech with surprise. Who knew Klink felt so strongly about keeping them safe? The man was normally a coward, so to hear that he would be willing to defy one of the most powerful men in Germany to accomplish that if need be was a bit of a shock.

For his part, Kinch at least knew who Hermann Göring was. Every pilot made it their business to know the head of the enemy organization. And he’d heard Burkhalter boasting of his ‘dear friend Heinrich Himmler’. What he didn’t know was **who** the mysterious man was, or even why he was so special. It was frustrating to say the least. At least he knew that _Heer_ was German for ‘Army’, which was something anyway. “Okay, exactly who the hell is this guy Himmler and why is he important?” Kinch asked. “And more importantly, what kind of military was that nut in Berlin running that an Army general was in charge of a _Luft Stalag_?”

Hogan glanced at his second-in-command, surprised that he didn’t know. “Kinch, you know who Himmler is. He’s the other guy that has his picture on the wall in the _Kommandtur._ You know, the one dressed in black with the glasses on and the SS runes on the collar? Kinda looks like a weasel? Or maybe a ferret,” he added as an afterthought. “He’s the head of the SS and the Gestapo, which makes him Major Hochstetter’s ultimate boss. General Burkhalter here has boasted about his ‘dear friend Heinrich’ many times, as you’ve heard on the coffee pot.”

He tossed a look at the Austrian general, who looked very unhappy at that unflattering comparison. “Look, with all due respect General, what I’m saying is true. No offense.” Then Hogan gave Burkhalter a sideways look of curiosity. “Although Kinch does have a good point; why **is** a _Heer_ general in charge of Stalag 13?”

With a sigh, Burkhalter replied, “Because, Hogan, I am a staff officer who holds a high rank. All the _Luftwaffe_ generals were needed at the Russian Front, so I was chosen for the job.” He raised an eyebrow curiously at the new German general. “Oh, really? That I would have liked to see, Klink.” He held no love for Hochstetter himself, and the only reason he’d maintained his relationship with Heinrich in the last year was because it was useful. Heinrich had gone mad with power, which had made him rather crazy. Burkhalter wasn’t fond of idiots, but he had to admit there was another reason as well…it was a useful connection to have. “Pardon me? A coffee pot, Hogan? Do tell.”

“What, don’t you know what a coffee pot is now, General?” Hogan asked wryly. He was enjoying teasing the fat Austrian, yet he gave in at the look he received. “Okay, okay. The coffee pot acts like a speaker for the bug in Klink’s office…the one hidden in the picture of ol’ scramble brains giving a speech. It’s in the microphone,” he added, looking pleased at his own cleverness.

“True, Guv’nor. I reckon it’s been right useful for evesdroppn’ and tellin’ us what we ‘eeded to know,” piped up Newkirk. He mimed holding up a phone and squinting, as if he were wearing a monocle. “*Hello, this is Kommandant Klink. Open the gates at once! _Mmmmpf!_ ” He imitated Klink’s voice while swinging his right arm and fist in the same way Klink did, his fist clenched. **“HOOOGAAAN!”** He repeated his imitation of Klink’s voice – which was good enough to be believable, even to someone who knew him well – and all the former POWs laughed.

‘Do the other one, _Pièrre_!” urged LeBeau with a grin. “You do it so _magnifiquement._ ” Shaking his head with a smile, the English corporal closed his eyes for a moment. Meanwhile, Hogan rolled his eyes at the theatrics – Newkirk had always shown himself to be a method actor when called upon to act – and this time was no different. When he opened them again, he had a frown on his face. He lifted his right arm in the air, his fist clenched, and shook it angerly. **“SCHUUUUULTZ! REPOOOOORT!”** he yelled, imitating Klink’s voice again. **“ _SCHELL_ , _DUMMKOPF_!”**

That was it; the all the former prisoners lost it. They all cracked up laughing, even the usually serious Kinch! Newkirk was openly laughing, LeBeau was actually rolling on the floor and Carter had tears coming out his eyes from laughing so hard. As for Hogan, he was doubled over, holding his sides as he tried to get a grip on himself. “That was…that was great, Newkirk,” he wheezed out. “You’ve got the _Kommandant_ down pat!”

Even the usually sour Hochstetter had a small smile – which was equivalent to anyone else dying of laughter – and was exceedingly rare for him. Hogan could count on one hand the times he’d seen the major not frowning. As for Burkhalter, he was actually laughing out loud. “He does an excellent imitation of you, Klink,” chuckled the general. He shot Klink a look, who didn’t appear to be amused.

“Thank you, thank you,” replied Newkirk as he bowed and smirked. “I’ll be ‘ere all week.”

“No, you will not,” growled the tall German officer. “Corporal Newkirk, I am not amused. And the rest of you can stop laughing!” he ordered. Klink glared at the American general, who was still holding his sides. “I am glad you find it so funny, Hogan,” he said with a slight warning in his voice. “We will discuss this later on, I am sure.”

Hearing the change in tone, Hogan quickly stopped laughing. By now, he knew that tone…and he knew what would happen if he pushed Klink too far! He wasn’t stupid, just very stubborn most of the time. It had taken almost a year of pretty much standing up all the time for the message to finally sink in…but it finally had! He had been able to convince his men that he was on a new exercise and muscle-strengthening program to cover for that, thanking all that was holy that they’d bought it.

Being their commanding officer had a few perks, and one of them was that his men didn’t question him...even if they did give him a few strange looks. Fortunately, his men had been too busy poking fun at the _Kommandant_ to notice the warning undercurrent. He wasn’t a fan of the idea that he and Klink could very well end up putting on a floor show, with him as the main attraction!

“Oh, lighten up Klink,” remarked Burkhalter. “ I think it is very funny, and *I have not laughed like this in years.”

And that was the moment that Sergeant Schultz chose to enter Klink’s quarters. He was out of breath and holding a sandwich. As usual, he’d forgotten his rifle somewhere. Hogan had never been so grateful for Schultz’s usually terrible timing. Breathlessly, he asked, “You called for me, _Herr Kommandant_?” The fat sergeant looked both confused and worried as he saluted his commanding officer. As was typical of Schultz, he held the sandwich in the hand he used to salute. The gesture was entertaining to see. “What did I do now, sir?”

Klink glared at his Sergeant of the Guard and snapped “ _Dummkopf_ , I did not call for you! Why would I call for you right now?”

“I do not know, _Herr Kommandant._ That is what I am trying to find out,” explained Schultz, as if he was talking to a young child. “But it sounded just like you. And you often call me a _dummkopf_ , as you just did. So, I merely thought –”

“Corporal Newkirk was merely doing impressions, Sergeant,” Burkhalter interrupted, seeing Schultz’s confusion and deciding to take pity on him. “I think it was very good, myself.”

“Well, you have to admit it was a great impression, sir,” replied Hogan. This wasn’t what Klink wanted to hear at all. Out of reflex, he shook his fist in the air like Newkirk had done earlier and yelled, **“HOOOGAAAN!”**

Combined with Newkirk’s impressions from earlier, this response sent the former POWs into a laughing fit again. Schultz was trying to figure out why Klink was having a meeting in his quarters instead of the _Kommandtur_ when his eyes fell on Major Hochstetter sitting near Hogan. _That is not a normal occurrence,_ Schultz thought to himself.

As he noticed the former POWs clustered around Klink and General Burkhalter. They were wearing… _are those German uniforms?!_ The thought went through the sergeant’s head even as he backed out the door. “I see nothing! I hear nothing! And I know noooothing!”

“We know! _Raus, raus, **RAUS**_ **!** ” yelled a frustrated Klink as he pointed toward the door. Stammering something that couldn’t be understood, Schultz made a hasty exit and closed the door.

Folding his arms, Klink glared at Hogan and his core team of men. **“YOU WILL CEASE THAT INFERNAL LAUGHING THIS INSTANT!”** he yelled. Now he was irritated, because he didn’t appreciate being made fun of…and certainly not in front of the other two German officers!

 **“BAH!”** added Hochstetter helpfully, contributing to the already chaotic environment. “Now who keeps yelling, Klink?” Though he didn’t like the idea of spending life in prison, he had to admit it was better than an execution. Life meant a chance to escape and gain his freedom, after all! He was also relishing the chance to repay Klink back for his insults earlier. “It is not so nice to have your own words thrown back at you, _ja?_ Overall, I find zis whole thing strangely entertaining.” Any chance to annoy the monocle-wearing thorn in his side was something he was on board with!

If looks could kill, the major would have been incinerated on the spot. Yet there wasn’t much the new German general could say to that, so he settled for giving Hogan a look that promised him he’d regret this later. He knew the war was over – for real this time – but there was no way Hogan was going anywhere before Klink had a chance to at talk to him in private one last time. Though if Hogan kept this bratty behavior up, there might not be much actual **talking** involved!

Deciding to take control of this conversation before he spanked the American brat in front of an audience, Klink changed the subject. “What were you talking about when you mentioned using a coffee pot to eavesdrop before, Hogan?”

“Oh, that.” Hogan motioned to the three members of his team. “Use the stove entrance and go and get the coffee pot.” Then he added, “And change out of those uniforms! Carter, go wash that stuff out before you’ve got black hair permanently. Then come back here. Kinch, you wait in the _Kommandtur_ until Newkirk calls you. Talk to us out loud after Newkirk calls you. Newkirk, after you bring back the coffee pot and plug it in, call Klink’s office so Kinch can give a demonstration.”

“Understood, General, said Kinch. “With pleasure, Guv’nor,” replied the English corporal. “You got it, boy – I mean, sir,” added Carter as the three men left the room.

Looking over at the Germans, Hogan sighed. “You’ll see the best surprise yet when they get set up, General Klink.”

Klink groaned and massaged his temples. “Hogan, I did not manage to survive **two** world wars only for you to kill me today with a heart attack from surprises.” The American was surely crazy. Granted, Klink had seen a lot today. At this point, he was liable to believe anything. But a bug in his office? Surely he would have noticed that! When he thought of his office, he remembered something Corporal Newkirk had said earlier.

With a calmness he definitely didn’t feel, Klink asked, “Tell me, Hogan, just who is Major Hoople? I know no one by that name, but he claimed I was his commanding officer. Yet there are no officers working at Stalag 13 but myself. And where did he get five thousand…”

Klink trailed off as he remembered the printing press he’d seen in the tunnels and the major’s voice…it had been familiar. **Too** familiar! His eyes widened in realization, which caused his monocle to fall out. By reflex, he caught it and put it back in his left eye. Pointing an accusing finger at Hogan, he stammered out, “You! You…you…you…”

“I think _le Commandant_ is mentally stuck, _Général,_ ” said LeBeau helpfully. “He seems as if he can’t get the words he wants to say out.”

“That is normal for him,” replied Burkhalter causally, as if the two of them were good friends.

Scowling at the French corporal yet not daring to scowl at his commanding officer, Klink managed to get the words out. “ **You** were Major Hoople! You gave those officers what must have been **counterfeit** money! And you…you saved my life,” he finished as he held his head in his hands.

“Those officers…they were going tell the _Führer_ that I refused to help with their project. But you showed up out of nowhere with the money.” He glanced at Hogan with wonder. “You gave me some flimsy story about working outside the camp to earn money. But I….oh, never mind.” Klink had a headache and needed to take something for it as soon as possible. He would deal with this later!

“It would seem, Klink, that you are very fortunate that I had Hogan brought here,” said Burkhalter. He looked indifferent to everything that was going on around him. “He appears to have been your guardian angel.”

“ _Herr_ General, why **did** you bring Hogan here?” asked Hochstetter unexpectedly. Everyone left in the room turned to look at him. It was a fair question, since normally an enemy officer such as a full colonel would have been sent to an _Oflag_.

The Austrian general gave the Gestapo major a surprised look. The Gestapo man was actually being civil for once, so Burkhalter decided to be civil as well. “That is a reasonable question, Major Hochstetter, and one I will answer when the three gentlemen return.”

Even with all the surprises he’d dished out today, Hogan thought he’d already known everything there was to know about the war and who was doing what. But this was news to him! He recalled everyone mentioning a general but no name when he had been interrogated before.

And then the goons in black had simply told Klink to _“call the general”_ if he had questions, but they hadn’t given a name for said general. At the time, Hogan had thought it weird but just figured Klink already knew the man in question. Which, as it turned out, he had!

The American general felt incredibly stupid for not having pieced this together before, especially as he’d met Burkhalter not long after being transferred to Stalag 13. Yet he dismissed that stupidity by reasoning that he’d had more important things on his mind. A sabotage ring didn’t run itself! “That was you?” he asked incredulously. “You saved my life, General. Those officers…” He trailed off, not sure how to phrase it. “They – uh, well – they weren’t the friendliest bunch of people,” he said carefully.

He really didn’t want to relive those memories any more than he already did, but he had to add something else. “Actually, they seemed to have a lot of fun in seeing how **creative** they could get when they asked me questions.” Hogan nodded his head in gratitude to the fat general.

“You have my deepest thanks for your timely interference. And I **do** mean timely! But the looks on their faces when you called was great,” he added, the humor returning to his voice. “Regarding what Major Hochstetter just asked you, I’d like to know the answer too. I would’ve said thanks a lot sooner if you’d told me,” Hogan said disapprovingly.

“I thought you already knew, Hogan,” replied Burkhalter, a frown appearing on his face. “Surely they said my name at some point?” He found it hard to believe none of the Gestapo officers had mentioned his name at all, especially when they’d delivered him to the monocle-wearing _Kommandant._

“If they had, I could’ve worked that much out for myself, sir,” Hogan shot back. “Not one of them said your name or anything else. They just kept repeating _‘Ja, Herr General_ ’ and _‘Jawohl, Herr General!’_ I thought it was weird, but I just chalked it up to being a German thing…along with millions of copies for every single form,” he said snarkily. “And then they brought me here. I thought for sure when the _Kommandant_ asked them why I was here that I’d get an answer to my question, since you know how curious I can be sometimes.”

“Yes, yes…we all know that, Hogan,” muttered Klink irritably. He’d lost count how many times that very curiosity had almost gotten him in deep trouble!

Burkhalter didn’t even glance at his subordinate as he replied, “*Klink, shut up.” He waved his hand, indicating that Hogan should continue what he’d been saying.

Nodding, the American continued on. “Anyway, they didn’t give the Iron Eagle here,” he jerked his thumb in Klink’s direction, “any names. They just told him to _“call the general”_ if he had any questions and left. I kept wondering how he was supposed to call someone when he didn’t know their name…even the _Luftwaffe_ ’s got to have more than one general!” he said. “But that was all they said before they left. I can tell you they were definitely scared of disobeying you, sir. But General Klink was just as confused as I was,” he finished.

“Now that I find hard to believe, Hogan,” Burkhalter deadpanned. “Mostly because that would be an improvement on Klink’s part.”

A movement was seen, and all eyes turned to the stove as the Englishman popped up out of the floor. He had changed clothes and was now redressed in the familiar RAF uniform he always wore. “You rang, Guv’nor?” asked Newkirk. He tapped one ear and added, “*Ears like a hawk, you know.”

“About time,” complained Hogan. “Set it up and give Kinch a call already.”

“Aye aye, sir!” replied Newkirk with a salute. He set up the coffee pot before striding to phone and calling Kinch. “Kinch, me mate, it’s your ol’ pal Newkirk. Do it.” Then he hung up the phone. There was a silence in the room until the RAF corporal plugged in the coffee pot, anticipation hanging in the air. Suddenly, the radioman’s voice was heard from the speaker. But he wasn’t alone. Well, that hadn’t been planned on. Kinch was supposed to be there by himself.

_“…and so then, Newkirk says to the general, ‘What type of medals does Klink wear?’ and Hogan rolls his eyes and says ‘borrowed’.”_

Kinch had clearly been in the middle of telling a story when Newkirk had called him, because there was a hearty laugh in the room that everyone recognized. _“Haha, borrowed! That is a good one, Sergeant Kinchloe!”_ It was Sergeant Schultz, and he seemed thoroughly entertained by Kinch’s tale. _“The Big Shot is always stomping around here, complaining about everything and yelling at me. How he even earned any medals at all is something I will never understand. Now, **I** think the Kommandant needs a nice fräulein in his life. He is always so cranky! But none of them will date him! Poor devil.” _

Schultz chuckled and Hogan groaned, closing his eyes. He felt a headache coming on, and the sergeant’s words weren’t helping it any. _“You know, Sergeant, he –”_

 _“Uh, Schultzie? You might want to –”_ Kinch tried to intervene. But Schultz continued on as if he hadn’t heard him.

 _“– gets mad whenever I forget my rifle, you know. But I hate carrying this thing. One time, I lost it on purpose when the Kommandant wanted me to shoot it at someone. I have nnnnever liked war, and I just want everyone to get along. I_ –”

Opening his eyes, Hogan made a slicing motion across his throat. Newkirk quickly pulled the plug and the fat sergeant’s voice was abruptly cut off. He didn’t miss the smiles on everyone’s face, except for two people. Major Hochstetter, who looked cranky again…and General Klink, who looked like he was about to lose his temper. “Newkirk, go and get Kinch. Drag him back here if you have to. And tell Carter to hurry it up!”

“Yes, sir!” Newkirk said as he turned and sprinted out of the room. Meanwhile, Hogan could feel Klink staring at him. He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his bomber jacket and smiled weakly. “So…that happened. Pretty cool, right?” He made a valiant effort to soothe Klink’s ire, which failed.

“Indeed, General Hogan.” The German’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Be sure to stay behind for a little while after everyone leaves. I trust we have much to ‘discuss’. You know, wrapping up business here at Stalag 13 and such. There is paperwork to be filled out, calls to make, etcetera. I am sure you want to go home after your package arrives.” He gave the American a look that clearly conveyed what he meant, and the American went pale.

“Oh…sure. No problem, sir,” he said faintly.

LeBeau looked concerned. Why had Hogan suddenly gone pale? Was this _Boche_ threatening him? “ _Mon Général_ , are you alright?” The Frenchman eyed both Klink and his commanding officer suspiciously. “You don’t look well.”

Waving his hand, Hogan replied, “I’m fine, LeBeau. Just looking forward to getting out of here, finding a woman…you know, the usual stuff.” He gave his corporal a cheerful grin he didn’t feel. “It’s been a while, so I’m afraid my skills might be rusty. That’s all.” He frowned as he added, “Though I do hate German…paperwork.” _Great, just great!_

 _Ah, you thought you would just do all of this and leave? Think again, troublemaker,_ thought Klink. A smirk played over his lips as he asked, “Why would you say my medals are borrowed, Hogan?” An offended look crossed Klink’s features as he spoke. “I assure you that I have earned every medal and award I have!” he said defensively.

Thankfully before Hogan had to come up with a lie, Carter decided to show up. “Carter, thank God you’re here!” exclaimed Hogan in relief. Now he didn’t have to stick his foot in his mouth yet again. Though of course, he just let his team think he was relieved at Carter’s appearance. “General Burkhalter was about to tell us something important.” He looked behind the young sergeant. “Where’s New –”

The door flew open and the English corporal entered, the radioman right behind him. “We’re back, sir,” said Kinch as he pulled off his gloves. “I left Schultzie in the office. He wanted to come along too, but I told him it’d interfere with his policy to ‘see nothing’, ‘hear nothing’ and ‘know nothing’. In the end, he decided against it.”

“If the gentleman would please sit down,” requested Burkhalter. “I do have other things to do today, you know.” He nodded at Hochstetter, who was fuming again. “Like hand him over to the Americans.”

**_ Burkhalter’s tale… _ **

After everyone had sat back down, the fat general said, “I will make this brief, even though this day has been amusing.” He looked at all of them in turn, his eyes settling on Hogan. “I am going to assume that you have heard of the super-spy called ‘Nimrod’, yes?”

The American let a puzzled look cross his face. What did Nimrod have to do with any of this? Hogan himself didn’t know who the British super-spy was, although he remembered convincing Hochstetter that Klink was Nimrod at one point to complete a mission. What kind of question was that? “Of course, sir…everyone working with the Allies has heard of him. But even I don’t know who he is. London’s kept absolutely mute on the subject, so I’ve never met him. Why?”

“You do now.” Burkhalter waved a gloved hand at himself. “It is good to finally meet then, _nein_?”

You could have heard a pin drop in the room, because the silence was that deafening. For a moment nobody said anything. Then everyone spoke at once.

“You’ve got to be bloody barmy!” exclaimed Newkirk. “I know a British accent when I ’ear one, and you, General, ain’t ruddy British!” Newkirk looked highly offended at the very idea.

“Impossible!” said LeBeau. “Why would the Allies make a _Bosche_ general their _numéro un_ spy?” He looked like he could spit nails. The Frenchman had no love for Germans, even if Burkhalter was technically Austrian.

“Boy, I think General Burkhalter’s finally lost it,” added Carter. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Maybe he needs a medic of some kind?”

“There’s no way that’s possible, General. London would have said **something** to me!” replied Hogan. “They would’ve wanted to make sure we didn’t accidentally ship you off to them for whatever reason.” He could accept a lot of things, but this went beyond even his limits.

“With all due respect, General, I don’t see why London would take that risk,” Kinch piped up. Hogan’s second-in-command was calm, but he fully agreed with his commanding officer. “You are a general, sir, and the opportunities to betray them would be plentiful.”

“General Burkhalter, how could that be?” Klink was still having trouble wrapping his mind around everything else that had happened today. Pointing at Hochstetter, he added, “Major Hochstetter said he talked to Nimrod on the phone, and then talked to you immediately after he hung up. Even you cannot be in two places at once, _Herr_ General,” he finished reasonably.

 **“BAH!”** shouted Hochstetter again, this time in anger. The major was more incensed now than he’d been earlier – if that was possible – because this was the ultimate betrayal. “Impossible! I talked to him on the phone, and then I –”

“– ate a piece of paper that had a fake code on it, presumably given to you by Corporal Newkirk over the phone,” finished Burkhalter. He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “At least I am guessing that it was the Englander, based on his vocal imitation talents. There is also the fact that after he showed up, he translated the code within two minutes…after you had tried for over two hours to do so and failed. Anyway, I admit that watching you do eat the paper was quite amusing.”

Hochstetter was frustrated, and his headache was raging by now. He knew Burkhalter had no love for him **or** his branch of the service, but this went too far! Still, Klink had a point…for once. “Yes, _Herr_ General…what Klink said,” he added with a grimace. It annoyed him to admit Klink was right about **anything** , considering he knew the man was an idiot. “How could you be on the phone and in the room with me at the same time?”

Holding up his hands, Burkhalter said dryly, “If everyone would simply calm down, I will tell you.” Everyone in the room shut up, eager to hear what the fat general had to say. “ _Danke_. Now, in the interest of clearing this up quickly, I will answer everyone in the order of which they spoke.” He put down his hands and looked at Newkirk. “Corporal Newkirk, I am not British. You are correct in that. I am Austrian and proud of it. However, I am a plant, as you might say, behind enemy lines.”

Newkirk looked like he was about to object, but Burkhalter continued. “I was already a full colonel in the _Heer_ from the first war. When Hitler took power, madness soon seized my country. I quickly realized within two months that he was absolutely insane, and I did not wish him in power any more than the rest of the world did. As the Americans had won the last war, I originally sought to offer them my assistance. They are a young country, but they had already proven to be very formidable in battle.”

He turned to LeBeau. “I am a general now, but when the war started I was a colonel. That rank gave me some privilege and allowed me traveling rights that others did not have. As I have told Klink countless times, a colonel is not such a bad rank. It is much like being a general, only without the endless paperwork from problems your subordinates cause you.” He looked pointedly over at the new German general, who had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Not to mention the constant headaches you get, the nonstop whining about this problem or the other, and the enormous responsibility overall. But I digress,” Burkhalter said. He shifted in his chair and got more comfortable as he looked at LeBeau again. “The Americans were – naturally – suspicious of me. As you said, Corporal LeBeau…why would they make a German officer their number one spy? Well, they did not. Not at first. They – what is the English term? – scoped me down.”

“It’s actually scoped you out, sir,” said Hogan, thinking it was cuter when Klink messed up English phrases. This was an interesting tale, to be sure! “I’m assuming you mean they were checking out your background, getting a feel for your motives, stuff like that, right?”

Nodding, Burkhalter replied “Correct, Hogan.” He clasped his hands over his large stomach as he continued his tale. “In any event, they gave me little tests at first. Pass along a false message here, give my commanding officers the wrong time for something there. Little things.” He took in a breath of air, appearing to think for a moment.

“Well don’t leave us hanging, sir! What happened next?” inquired Carter. He had flipped onto his stomach and was propped up on his elbows. Like the rest of his teammates, this was the first he’d heard of this, and he wanted to know the rest.

“Have some patience, Sergeant. I am getting there,” remarked Burkhalter. Everyone’s attention was on him, he was pleased to note. “Anyway, this happened over a few years…from March of 1933 to June of 1937, to be precise. And the Allied High Command in London either has less concerns over possible traitors or they had a backup plan in place. I say this because when President Roosevelt contacted them about me, they offered to continue my spy training there.” He gave Hogan a look. “By that point, there was no doubt of my loyalties. Yet your President felt that having a German officer on the staff, especially one who had fought on the enemy’s side in the first war, would cause great upset. And they did not wish for that to happen.”

“I can see why that would be a slight problem,” murmured Kinch. This was the weirdest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d heard enough crazy schemes from Hogan to justify making him completely gray.

“A slight problem, he says,” replied Klink. “A general on Hitler’s personal staff is a traitor and you call it ‘a slight problem’.” He just wanted to take a nap for the next decade or so, until the world returned to normal and he could forget the war had ever happened.

“If I am a traitor, then so are you Klink!” Burkhalter snapped back sharply. “I know you have seen more of Hogan’s shenanigans than I have, yet you have done nothing about them. Do not kid yourself.”

Klink fell silent as he contemplated this. The sad thing was that he couldn’t even deny it. There had been one occasion he’d even sent Schultz ahead to warn Hogan and tell him to ‘*get rid of that radio, if he has one’ when the Gestapo had brought a radio detector into Stalag 13. For all of his speeches to the former prisoners about the ‘glorious Third Reich’, he knew in his heart that they were false claims. Deciding not to reply to that comment, he instead waited for Burkhalter to continue.

 **“YOU ARE ALL TRAITORS!”** yelled Hochstetter out of nowhere. “And you will **all** hang for zis!” He growled the last word and glared at both of the German generals. He couldn’t believe his ears. To not agree with the Nazi regime was one thing. He could handle someone feeling that way, even if he personally was a big supporter of it. It wasn’t advisable to do, considering such people tended to either disappear or die. But to outright work against it? No, that went against his principles…such as they were. This was an outrage!

“Major Hochstetter, unless you are particularly eager to get acquainted with your new prison cell, shut up and let me finish,” said the fat general evenly. “Also, I would like to point out that you have no authority to carry out that threat.”

Gritting his teeth, the irate major replied stiffly, “ _Jawohl,_ _Herr General_.” It galled him to do so, but at least he had the comfort of knowing he would never see Burkhalter again once he left Stalag 13.

“Anyhow, I was flown to Britain for a meeting. Let me just say that Buckingham Place is a nice place,” he added with a glance at Newkirk. “Prime Minister –”

“’Old on jus’ a minute! You met the bleedin’ **Queen of England**?!” interrupted Newkirk. Despite himself, he was just as sucked into this incredible story as everyone else. It was every British person’s dream to meet the current monarch, and yet Burkhalter – a _Jerry_ – had managed it? Now that was a personal insult!

“No, Corporal,” replied the general with a sigh. At this rate, he was never going to finish his story. “But when I was flown in, that was where your Prime Minister was going to be. He was in a meeting with the Queen, so I got a tour of the palace while I waited for him.” He gave Kinch and Hogan a rare smirk. “By the way, that rumor about the guards being completely stone-faced and emotionless? It is a complete lie…or at least it was when I was there,” he added.

“In any event, after his meeting with Her Majesty, I got to meet with the new Prime Minister. Sir Winston Churchill is quite a nice man, though I can see why the _Bolsheviks_ gave him the nickname ‘the bulldog’. The man is unbelievably stubborn. When he wants something, he does not stop until he gets it…and he can be unbelievably persuasive.”

“That sounds like someone else we know, _Herr_ General,” replied Klink. He raised an eyebrow and gave his troublemaker a knowing look, which caused Hogan to actually look sheepish. “Are you certain that you two are not related, Hogan?” he deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” retorted Hogan. Klink raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, as if asking Hogan if he thought it was wise to use that tone. _My brat must be very confident in himself if he is choosing to be disrespectful,_ he thought.

Seeing it, the American added a “Sir,” to the end of his sentence hastily.

Burkhalter continued on as if he hadn’t heard their little exchange. “Churchill agreed with my assessment that Hitler would surely plunge Germany into another world war. He was greedy for land, greedy for power, and wanted to show he was the ultimate military leader. We both saw this coming, and we had both read _Mein Kampf_. So –”

Kinch couldn’t help himself, because he had to ask this question. “Sorry to interrupt you General, but why would Churchill read that…that book?” he asked. “If you can even call it that,” he added in disgust.

“What better way to know your enemy than to read about his life…and his plans that he so carelessly laid out for all to see?” replied the general. “Hitler had made it quite clear what his plans were from the starting gate when he wrote that. But as I said, we had both read the book and we were both in agreement. Churchill knew war was inevitable, though we both hoped that it would not be another world war. As you know, Corporal,” he addressed this remark to Newkirk, “the United Kingdom was not eager to go to war again. And Churchill also knew that he had to wait for Hitler to slip up somehow before he could do anything about him and be able to justify it. Otherwise, the United Kingdom would have been known as the aggressor.”

Burkhalter shrugged as he continued talking. “Fortunately, I had made my move to help the Allies years prior…I know now that if I had waited until 1939, it would have been too late. As everyone here knows, World War Two was declared in 1939. Everyone here that was formerly a prisoner of war joined their respective air forces at some point, got shot down, and here we all are,” he finished.

Well, he had to give Burkhalter credit…it was an interesting story. Yet Hogan wasn’t all the way convinced. “Okay, so if I was to radio London right now and ask them to confirm that story, would they?” he asked Burkhalter. “And my question still remains: if you were Nimrod, why didn’t you tell us? Or at least tell me?”

Snorting, the fat general replied, “They might…or they might not. I would advise asking that question in person, General. As you haven proven tonight, voices are easily faked.” He gave Newkirk a lingering gaze, to which the Englishman smirked in reply. “And like I said, my identity was top secret. I do not know for certain if it is anymore or not, as I have not checked yet.” He returned his gaze to Hogan. “Yet I tried to help you where I could. Or have you forgotten the plans I left you, Hogan?”

Hogan stared at him, not understanding what Burkhalter was talking about now. “The plans? What pl –” He cut himself off as he remembered the supposed ‘model airplane’ plans he’d somehow gotten right after Burkhalter had left…along with the note. “Oh. That was you?” he demanded.

“Indeed. And if you had paid attention at all, you would have noticed that I was always nicer to you than to Klink. As a fellow officer in the same military as I, that should have been the other way around. Besides that, I always brought important documents – in English, no less – to this camp. Any other officer would not have gone anywhere **near** Stalag 13 with anything remotely top secret, and if they had brought anything of the sort it would have been in German. Yet I continuously brought such things here, making sure you would be able to read them.”

He took in the surprised looks on their faces, enjoying being one up on Robert Hogan for once! “I knew the Englander here was an excellent safecracker, because London had told me how they airdropped Alfie the Artist here at one point to assist him. And Alfie has never worked with anyone but the best, which meant your corporal has a lot of talent,” Burkhalter said, causing a look of pride to appear on Newkirk’s face.

“Let me put it this way; he was not locked up in a maximum security prison because he was a low risk sort of man,” added Burkhalter. “Anything I put in Klink’s safe, I might as well have personally handed your corporal pictures of,” he said to Hogan.

Well, Hogan was convinced. He’d done a lot of crazy things in the last three years, all in the name of the ‘Unsung Heroes’ operation. Yet this tale of Burkhalter’s was too strange not to be true, and he had made some valid points as well. Besides, he could always confirm this crazy story with London later on. He just had two questions left. “Well…I guess thanks for all your help, General Burkhalter. But I have two more questions for you.”

“And what might those be, Hogan?” asked Burkhalter wearily. He was tired, he had a headache from dealing with Hochstetter and his screaming, and he wanted to leave Stalag 13 behind forever. _Perhaps I might even have a cold stein of beer before I go home,_ he thought.

Hogan shifted on the couch, grateful that Hochstetter wasn’t still screaming…or talking at all, really. “Okay, so first question: why did you send me here? Not that I’m not grateful, mind you,” he added. “But I know officers usually end up in _Oflags_ here in Germany.”

“Simply put? Because you were needed for your operation here,” replied Burkhalter. “Although of course, the official reason was ‘to keep you from rallying your fellow officers and leading a mass escape.’ It was just a cover story, of course.”

He looked at the American. “And your second question?”

“How did you get promoted so fast? The first time I met you, you were a colonel…and the next time I saw you two months later, you were a three-star general. What did you do?!” demanded Hogan. Nobody got promoted that fast!

Burkhalter smiled, and the sight was unsettling to everyone else in the room. “Many things indeed…but the clincher was revealing that spy Wagner.” He received blank looks all around and sighed. “Gentlemen, how can you forget the spy who saw your entire tunnel network and tried to expose you? The one who tried to ‘light a cigar’ and ended up shooting it? And who drenched me in water…in the middle of winter?!” Okay, he was still upset about that last one. He felt fortunate that he hadn’t gotten sick afterwards, since cold weather and ice cold water on one’s person didn’t mix well.

Hogan’s team had to laugh as they remembered the shocked look on Burkhalter’s face. To his credit, the American general managed to keep his composure. “Okay…but how does that help you in any way, General?”

The Austrian general shrugged. “London was extremely happy that I had told them about the threat to your operation and discredited him, while Berlin was happy that I revealed an ‘obviously insane soldier’ and sent him to the Russian Front. It worked quite well in my favor.” With that, Burkhalter rose and motioned for Hochstetter to rise as well. “Now, I must be going. Hogan, I will be locking Hochstetter in the cooler before I leave…are there any cells I should avoid?” he asked.

“Yeah, cell three. That one doesn’t have a tunnel or any kind of escape route to it.” Hogan smiled as Hochstetter balled his hands into fists. “Good luck, Major. Have a nice life.” He looked up at Burkhalter, since he was still sitting down. “Would you be so kind as to let London know I need a pick-up from the cooler here, sir? Preferably ASAP?” He still had things to deal with here, and he didn’t need witnesses for them!

“Of course. The sooner I can leave this place, the better.” Burkhalter stretched as the other POWs and Klink got to their feet. They were a well-trained team and could take a hint, while Klink did it out of basic courtesy. Hogan stood as well and gave Burkhalter a proper salute for once, with his men and Klink following his example. “I guess this is goodbye, General Burkhalter. I won’t say it’s been fun, but it’s been…interesting, anyway.”

“I concur.” General Burkhalter returned the salutes and shook his head. “We will see each other again, General Hogan. You will need me the next place you and Klink go together.” He looked on, amused at the surprised looks on the two generals’ faces. “With that, I bid you all good day.” He turned and walked toward the door, literally dragging a protesting Major Hochstetter with him.

Right before he left Klink’s quarters, Hochstetter shot him a nasty glare. **“BAH! I WILL GET YOU FOR ZIS, HOGAN!”** he screamed.

“Yeah, yeah, tell it to the war crimes tribunal,” was the sassy reply Hogan gave in return.

**_ Details, details… _ **

After the two Germans had left and the door had closed, everyone still in the room looked at Hogan expectantly. Where was their commanding officer going next that he was taking **Klink** with him? The American had a shocked look on his face, which only increased their curiosity.

“Where are you headed next?” The question was said at the same time by Klink and his team. In addition to that, Klink asked, “Where am I supposedly going with you?” He didn’t recall agreeing to go **anywhere** with Hogan!

“Trust Burkhalter to almost ruin my plans,” was the muttered reply. _And he must be telling the truth about who he is if he knows them, because I haven’t mentioned them to anyone but a single person in London!_

Sighing, Hogan replied, “I can’t tell you. Any of you,” he amended, directing the last part to his team as he saw the questions in their eyes.

As Klink opened his mouth to protest, the American officer looked at the tall German and added, “You’ll find out soon enough…and no, it’s not a bad thing, I promise. But it **is** a surprise!”

Then Hogan looked at his team, the loyal men who had stood by his side through thick and thin since he’d been here. Their faces all held puzzled expressions, yet they all seemed happy enough. Just the fact that everyone was still alive and in one piece was enough for him.

“Well, this has been an interesting war, I can say that much. Now, you guys better get going to London if you want your commissions!” he told them.

As his men started to interrupt, he held up a hand. “We’ll talk more later. For now, I need a nice long nap. I have a headache, and I have things to wrap up here. So, go on! That’s gonna be a long flight and jet lag is a royal pain. I’ll tell you guys everything later on, I promise.”

They all grumbled but finally said their goodbyes and one by one gave him a brotherly hug. After he shook each of their hands, they left to pack up their things and head for London.

Hogan stood there in silence, contemplating just how crazy war could be. But the silence was broken by Klink, who had his ‘nasty-happy’ look on his face. _Uh-oh!_ He recognized that grin, and it wasn’t a good sign.

Backing up, he held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, easy now General Klink. We have the final paperwork to do and other stuff to discuss, remember?” He had used Klink’s new title on purpose, hoping to distract the usually proud German.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t working today. Klink walked toward him slowly, his movements graceful and predatory.

“Oh yes, we have much to discuss indeed. But they will not involve you sitting down!” he added. “You will tell me where I am supposedly going with you, Robert Edward Hogan, and you will tell me right now.”

Yet it wasn't the approaching threat, but the use of his middle name stopped Hogan in his tracks. “Wait…how do you know my middle name? That’s not in my file!” he exclaimed. He’d never told anyone his middle name because he hated it, so only his parents knew it. He’d told the Army Air Force that he only had a middle initial.

“No, but _Frau_ Hogan gave you the name. Therefore, I should think that she knows it,” Klink said wryly.

Blinking, the American general pondered this for a few seconds. “Who’s –” He cut himself off as the light bulb clicked on in his head.

“You called my mom?” he asked in disbelief. “What the hell, Klink?” he exclaimed, omitting the older man’s rank as he spoke.

“Language, Hogan,” replied the German officer, his blue eyes holding an unreadable look in them. “And yes, I did…yesterday, actually. I wished for her to know that her son was alive and well, and that he would be hopefully returning home to her in a few weeks or less. Also, I wanted to know the story behind your middle name, as I was curious about why you did not appear to have one. I have never met anyone who did not have one before."

This was an unexpected turn of events! Even as he was touched at the thoughtful gesture on his behalf, Hogan had to ask the questions on his mind. “What did she say when you asked her that? Did you tell her who you were?” His stomach sank like a heavy stone in the water as something else occurred to him. His mom was the town gossip, and he prayed that what he asked next would be answered with a resounding ‘no’. “Please, **please** tell me you didn’t tell her –”

“– that I have been spanking you for the last year due to you being a brat and an all-around troublemaker while you have been here in my camp?” Klink chuckled as he finished his brat’s sentence. “Oh, of course I did. And I told her exactly how, with what and why as well.” He watched Hogan’s cheeks turn red from embarrassment. “I do not any need rumors flying around that I was doing so because I was sadistic or that I abused you in any sort of way. So, I thought it better that she heard it – what is the English idiom? – straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Klink shrugged as he continued on. “But to answer your questions, I told her the truth: that I was the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13, the prisoner of war camp where you have been living for the last three years. I think she was surprised that I spoke English at all, never mind that I speak it fluently.”

His anger forgotten, he smirked at the blushing American. “After we got the formalities out of the way, she asked me how you were doing. I imagine from the initial tone of her voice that she thought I had you strung up by your thumbs and was having you starved…or something horrible like that,” Klink said thoughtfully.

“In any event, I told her all the trouble you have been causing here at Stalag 13 and for how long. I also informed her how you have – quite literally – almost gotten me killed at least twice, but that you managed to save me on both occasions as well. Among other things, we discussed your fairly regular habit of putting yourself in danger and sometimes putting others at risk along with you. Then I told her of my solution to the aforementioned problems – and your brattiness in general – in addition to how well it seemed to be working on you.” The older man paused for effect, but Hogan wasn’t in the mood for his games.

“So how long and how loudly did she scream at you for ‘laying a finger on her precious son’?” asked Hogan. He knew that his mother loved him to pieces, and surely she’d be hopping mad when she heard what he’d been through in the last year!

“She did not, actually,” replied Klink smugly.

Hogan blinked a few times in surprise. _What? That can’t be right,_ he thought. “You’re kidding. Then what did she say?”

Klink appeared to be trying to remember the conversation as he put his hand on his chin. “Well, first she laughed for a good three minutes before she was able to speak. I do not believe that I have ever heard anyone laugh so hard in my entire life, so she obviously found it amusing. After that – if I recall correctly – she said, _“That sounds like my child, alright. He’s a real prankster, but he’s mostly harmless.”_ Also, she says to tell you that she raised you to have much better manners than that.”

Yes, he was thoroughly enjoying the stunned look on Hogan’s face right now.

“Finally, she said to me, _“Well, good luck to you, Kommandant Klink. My husband and I have always spoiled our son, but it’s about time someone took him well in hand. Keep him over in Germany as long as you want and feel free to discipline him as you see fit. Just make sure he gets home to us in one piece afterwards, don’t cause any permanent damage to him, and please make sure we see him at least once a year. I’ll let his father know what's going on in the meantime. Trust me, he’ll be very happy to hear about this. And tell Robert I said to **behave**!” _By now his troublemaker looked very unhappy as he continued on.

“At that point, I assured her that I would do everything as she requested. Then she thanked me again, wished me a good day and hung up. So you see, Hogan, I have your mother’s blessing. I think that speaks for itself, do you not agree?” Klink finished.

“I think she must hate me is what I think,” grumbled Hogan. How could his mom do this to him? Some love that was…she’d given Klink free reign to keep him from sitting down forever! To say he was **not** a happy camper right now was an understatement. “How could you do that to me?” he demanded angerly. “My mom is the town gossip, which means she’ll tell everyone about this! I’ll be a laughingstock, and I’ll never be able to show my face in that town again.”

Giving the older man a dirty look, he added, “You said you’d never tell anyone about this arrangement of ours, but you lied! How could you tell my **mom** , of all people, that you spank me and –”

Which was as far as he got before he noticed Burkhalter standing there, a surprised look on his face.

“Hi, General Burkhalter. I was…we were just…um…okay, how long have you been standing there?” asked Hogan, unable to get his words the way he wanted to together for once.

Well, this was just great! If Burkhalter had heard him talking to Klink just now –

“Long enough to hear the tail end of a most interesting conversation,” replied the general, interrupting Hogan’s train of thought. “By the way, Major Hochstetter is now in the cooler. Yet as I was leaving, I realized I forgot my cap on the coat rack in here. So, I came back for it.”

He eyed both of the new generals and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “So, Klink…is it true what I just heard Hogan say? Is this how you have been punishing your prisoners all this time? Because while that would explain your ‘no-escapes’ record, you must have had your hands full indeed with all the trouble that revolves around this camp.”

“ _Nein, Herr_ General…just this troublemaker,” the German officer said as he pointed at the younger man.

In return, Hogan covered his face and groaned. Klink figured the cat was already out of the bag regarding his commanding officer, since he’d obviously heard enough of their conversation to figure things out. And Burkhalter was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a gossip.

“Believe me, I have my hands full just with him alone!” he added.

Burkhalter observed the American, who looked decidedly embarrassed as he uncovered his face and looked away. Hogan was looking at the floor in order to avoid meeting either of their eyes, which was odd for the normally cocky Allied officer. He was also shifting his weight from foot to foot in nervousness, his unease at the very mention of Klink’s unorthodox method a sure sign of its effectiveness.

“Well Klink, this is highly unusual…but from Hogan’s reactions, it seems to be working marvelously. Very effective, I must admit.” He glanced at his subordinate. “And you even got his mother’s blessing? Interesting,” he said with a smirk.

“ _Danke, Herr_ General,” replied Klink with a smile, pleased to be recognized for doing something right for once. But Burkhalter wasn’t quite done speaking yet. He still had a verbal bomb to drop.

“I shall have to make a mental note of this. If there is another war, Klink – and I dearly hope there is not, because I am getting far too old for this nonsense – I will be sure to make you the _Kommandant_ of a prisoner of war camp right away. And I shall use this method on **you** from the start,” threatened Burkhalter.

“Do you have any idea how many headaches you have given me, not to mention the endless piles of paperwork? One would think I have nothing better to do than fill out reports!” The Austrian chuckled softly. “Of course, I will be sure to get permission from _Frau_ Klink as well, so do not worry.”

 _Hold on just one moment_ , Klink thought. _Surely Burkhalter would not really do that…would he? Oh, who am I fooling? Of course he would, and he would take great pleasure in doing it!_

That was **not** what he had in mind when he’d started this whole thing with Hogan! “Wait, I… _Herr_ General…you cannot…” stammered Klink, unable to get his words out as he blushed.

He wasn’t liking a taste of his own medicine, and – not for the first time in his military career – he wondered how he got himself into these messes.

And Burkhalter still wasn’t through talking yet! “After all Klink, what is good for the goose is good for the gander. So I suggest you keep that in mind, lest I decide to remember that little saying and act upon it.”

He watched his subordinate’s face turn red from embarrassment and smirked. This had been the most interesting day he’d had in ages, not to mention the most fun one!

Hearing the short conversation between the two Germans, Hogan began laughing hysterically and holding his sides again. His embarrassment faded away as he did so, replaced by giddiness. The mental images were just too much for him to handle. Seeing the unhappy look on Klink’s face, he only laughed harder.

“General Burkhalter, I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” he gasped out. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard!”

He managed to calm down a little as he spoke, but Hogan was still laughing as he looked at Klink. “What’s the matter, _Kommandant_? It’s not as funny when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?”

Glaring at the cheeky American officer, Klink replied in a warning tone, “Insolence! Hogan, I am warning you…you had better stop laughing **right now**!”

He wasn’t in the mood for the younger man’s sense of humor to begin with, and his newfound embarrassment wasn’t helping his mood at all. “Unless you feel like being part of a live demonstration, that is.”

But Hogan was too busy laughing again to hear the warning undercurrent in Klink’s tone, and so he ignored the verbal warning as well. _There’s no way he’ll do anything with Burkhalter here, so I’m safe!_

“Oh, but the best medicine always tastes the most bitter,” he replied, enjoying not being the uncomfortable one for once. So wrapped was the American in enjoying Klink’s utter embarrassment that it didn’t fully register what happened next.

Klink's arm snaked out like lightning and grabbed Hogan's arm in a no-nonsense grip before he began marching him toward the sofa.

And Burkhalter was still standing there, watching them with amused curiosity. _You'd better apologize, and fast,_ said his common sense unexpectedly. _Even if it's not sincere, you'd better say something unless you want to put on a show, Rob!_

As they walked, Hogan felt three sharp swats land on his butt, which thankfully was still clothed.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

"Owww," he complained, dragging his feet to slow himself down. Even though the swats been over his clothes, they’d still hurt! "Okay, okay! I'm sorry, sir!"

It seemed to do the trick, as Klink had stopped moving. That in itself was a good sign, because at least it meant he might be able to avoid being punished. For the moment anyway, because he couldn't deny it would be happening at some point.

“No, you are not,” came the curt reply. “But you will be later on.”

Hogan quickly nodded his agreement. He didn’t want to risk putting his foot in his mouth, which he managed to do far more than he liked to admit.

“Okay, that’s fine! But please, just not right now,” he requested, tossing a quick glance at the fat general as he spoke.

“Alright, I will let this go…for **now** ,” Klink said, shaking a slender finger near his face as he emphasized the word ‘now’. “Do not test me right now, Hogan, as I am not in the mood. This is your only warning.”

He gave younger man a glance that was both a promise of things to come later on and one of warning. “You will apologize to General Burkhalter at once for making a spectacle out of yourself.”

 _“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!”_ replied Hogan, mimicking Schultz but actually giving Klink a proper salute for once, the second one he’d given Klink that day.

Hogan wasn’t feeling brave enough at the moment to be his usually flippant self with the older man, especially with an audience. He nodded to the fat general and gave him a proper salute as well, also the second one he’d given Burkhalter that day.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, General Burkhalter. That was completely uncalled for on my part,” Hogan said.

It didn’t make him happy being forced to apologize, but Hogan had learned when not to push it with Klink. Well, mostly anyway. There would always be incidents that happened whenever he was around the tall German, because the older man was just so easy to rile up.

With an exasperated look on his face, Klink returned it before looking at Burkhalter.

“Do you see what I have to put up with? He drives me insane,” grumbled the German general.

“And I feel the exact same way about you, Klink,” said Burkhalter as he returned the salute.

A thoughtful look crossed his face as he pondered what he’d just seen. He didn’t recall Hogan ever giving anybody a proper military greeting before, and certainly not Klink! Yet all it took was a few smacks to the seat of his trousers and marching him towards the sofa before Hogan was instantly contrite? And not only that, but Hogan had given him an actual apology **and** a proper salute!

 _Make that **two** proper salutes, because Hogan gave me one earlier as well, _he amended mentally. _The world must be ending if he is doing that!_

That was interesting. Hmm…clearly Klink had been doing this form of punishment with the American general for quite some time now. Maybe there was something to it after all! Burkhalter would have to consider that line of thinking later on.

Yet right now, he had other things to worry about. “Quite a show you two put on, gentlemen. I am afraid I cannot stay for it, however…duty calls.”

He grabbed his cap off the coat rack and put it on, tossing a glance at Hogan. “While I highly doubt you will be able to avoid trouble completely, Hogan, do take my advice…try and keep it to a minimum. Now, _Auf Wiedersehen!_ ”

With that, Burkhalter exited Klink’s quarters and closed the door behind him.

Turning back to the younger man, Klink scowled. He wasn’t overly happy about the recent discussion with his commanding officer.

“In response to your last statement, Hogan, you will please remember that I did not say I would not tell anyone. I said I would never tell your **men** ,” he pointed out. “By definition, that means anyone connected with you in your military career, including the Allied High Command.”

He rolled his eyes. “But _Frau_ Hogan is still your mother, and I felt she should know what her son was up to. I will not tell anyone else, this I promise you.”

“You don’t have to. You told **her** , and that’s like telling the entire town!” Hogan exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how fast this story’s going to spread? I wasn’t being over-dramatic when I said earlier that I can never show my face there again.”

Hogan shook his head. “Besides, Burkhalter **is** part of the Allied High Command. Or weren’t you paying attention when he told us how he became Nimrod?’

Sighing, the German general replied, “You are a drama queen, Hogan…and a seasoned troublemaker. And besides that, **you** are the one he overheard speaking of our arrangement, not me.”

He rubbed his temples, the headache growing worse by the minute. “I really do have to do the final paperwork with you, but right now my head hurts. I must lie down for a while.”

He pointed toward the guest room in his quarters. “I know you said earlier you had a headache, so you may lie down in there if you wish. We can continue this conversation later on, after we both are more rested.”

Then Klink turned and walked towards his room. “There is aspirin in the medicine cabinet.”

Hogan nodded before wishing he hadn’t, as his head was pounding! “Um, okay. I’ll do that sir, and thanks for the offer.”

He remembered how soft the guest bed had been when he had stayed here once before, so he looked forward to sleeping on it again. Unfortunately, thinking of the bed triggered the memory of **why** he’d been allowed to sleep over. That wasn’t something he wanted to remember, but it did remind him of something he needed to ask.

“Hey, _Kommandant_?” he called out.

Klink stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Hogan?” he asked. The older man was almost to his bedroom, a tired expression on his face.

The younger man swallowed, debating the wisdom of the question he needed to ask. “So, when you said we needed to have a discussion earlier…did you mean a verbal discussion or a ‘discussion’ discussion?” he asked, making air quotes.

Smirking, Klink replied, “Both, actually. Now, goodnight for now! I need to take something for my head and sleep for a while.”

With those parting words, the German entered the bedroom and shut the door.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” said the American general softly.

Oh well, he had known that all of this would be forthcoming eventually! Entering the guest bedroom, he closed the door. Then he found the bottle of aspirin in the bathroom medicine cabinet and took four of them. Normally he would only take two, but he had a severe migraine.

He entered the bedroom again and sat down on the bed, enjoying being able to do so while it lasted. Hogan kicked off his shoes, removed everything but his underwear and crawled under the covers, lying on his back to relax while he still could. He’d had to sleep with some sort of clothes on for the last three years, so it was a welcome change of pace to sleep this way.

He sure hoped that he’d be able to actually sleep, because this day had already dragged on long enough. He hadn’t really been lying to Klink earlier, despite what the tall German thought. And he refused to be a laughingstock!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I know that Klink recognized who Hogan was when he was dressed as Major Hoople in the show…but for the sake of creativity, he failed to notice it somehow in my story.**
> 
> **Sir Winston Churchill took office in mid-May of 1937 and was the Prime Minster of the Untied Kingdom from that day until the end of WW2, as well as again from 1951 – 1955.**
> 
> **The words surrounded by ** are something I saw in another fan-fiction. I don't remember which one it was or who wrote it, but I thought it was hilarious and wanted to pay homage to it. So any and all credit goes to that author for their work! If I knew who you were, I’d thank you by name.**


	10. Wrapping Up Loose Ends, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will General Hogan remember his long-ago promise to himself from Chapter 2? And if he does, just what’s going to happen to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**   
>  _
> 
> _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Guten abend_ = Good evening  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Heer_ = The German name for their Army  
>  _Ad nauseam_ = A Latin phrase, which means ‘something that has been done or repeated so often that it has become annoying or tiresome.’  
>  _Fräulein_ = Woman  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night

**_ Inside Klink's quarters, day one… _ **

Hogan woke up and looked at his watch to check the time, since he could see that it was dusk outside. He’d sent Schultz and Langenscheidt on their way earlier that day, as they had come looking for him after Klink had gone to bed. Fortunately, they’d caught him before he could do the same. That had meant he hadn’t been able to go to bed until he’d radioed London and gotten them to send a plane for the two former German guards. He’d also confirmed with them that Burkhalter was indeed Nimrod, but they said they would tell him more details when they saw him in person.

Right before they’d disconnected, Hogan had told London to give him three full days before sending the papers over. He’d explained it away by saying there was a lot more paperwork and other stuff to be done at Stalag 13 then he’d originally planned on, so the priority rush was no longer needed. London had acknowledged that request, and then they’d hung up.

Hogan had invited both the two remaining _Luftwaffe_ guards to see the tunnels as well. He figured that given the two men were still under Klink’s command, it was an offer best made without the _Kommandant’s_ knowledge. Surprisingly, both of them had refused his offer. Corporal Langenscheidt had said he’d take Hogan’s word for it, and Sergeant Schultz was still keeping to his ‘I know nothing’ policy. And while normally the new general wasn’t a hugging sort of guy, he’d given the young guard a big hug.

After that, he’d thanked Langenscheidt for helping to cover for the Heroes’ mission in Paris. Karl had awkwardly returned the hug, stammering that it was nothing before boarding the plane. He’d still been amazed at what Hogan told him was waiting for him in London…and he’d looked stunned that the Allies would be giving him an award instead of locking him up!

He’d given Schultz a hug too, although he couldn’t get his arms all the way around the fat sergeant the same way he could Schultz’s second-in-command. After telling Schultz the same thing about an award, he’d had something extra to tell him as well. When Hogan whispered in the Sergeant of the Guard’s ear exactly **who** Hogan had arranged for him to meet in Luxembourg after he was done in London – and that transportation was completely taken care of, but not to tell Karl about his extra stop – he’d thought Schultz was going to faint.

It was a good thing that he hadn’t, because the American general didn’t think even the two of them together could pick him up! Hogan liked Langenscheidt just fine, and he didn’t want the younger guard’s feelings getting hurt since he hadn’t been included in the extra stop. There was only so much that even **he** could do, after all.

The older guard had called him a _“jolly joker”_ until Hogan repeatedly insisted that he wasn’t joking. Then Hogan had handed Schultz a package, with strict instructions not to open it until after he’d met the person in Luxembourg and they’d met up again. After that, Schultz also stammered his thanks and boarded the plane, still shaking his head in wonder. Hogan had waved to them both, happy to see matching grins on their faces in return before he’d checked the cooler.

Major Hochstetter was long gone by now, and a note in his cell told Hogan that he’d been picked up versus escaped somehow. Therefore, the camp was completely empty except for him and Klink. Satisfied, he’d grabbed all of his things out of his barracks and returned to Klink’s quarters.

Since it was just them now, Hogan saw no reason why they couldn’t share a single living space. It would save on heating supplies, and it would make sure they both had someone nearby if one of them needed help for some reason. Of course, he’d have to clear it with Klink, but it’d made sense to him. And if not, it wasn’t that hard to move his few things back to Barracks 2.

Not that he had much stuff to gather up when he visited the empty barracks, but it was the principle of the thing. Germany was a little far to go if he ended up forgetting something in the end. At that point, Hogan had taken off all of his clothes except his underwear. After folding them and putting them on the dresser in the guest bedroom, he’d gotten into the bed and promptly passed out cold.

To his amazement, it was now exactly 1900 (7:00pm) hours, the time that he would normally be making an appearance here anyway for his nightly butt warming. He took that as a sign that what he was about to do was the right thing. Not bothering to put his shoes **or** his clothes back on, Hogan pulled on his pale blue bathrobe instead. After tying it shut, he wandered out into the living room.

Klink was sitting on the sofa, wearing his own dark blue bathrobe with the gold _Luftwaffe_ eagle on it and enjoying a cup of tea. He looked well rested, which was good. “ _Guten abend_ , Hogan,” he greeted the other general. “I hope your headache is gone now, like mine is. The rest did me a great deal of good. Is Hochstetter gone yet?” he asked.

“Good evening to you, sir.” Hogan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to do and what needed to be said. There would never be a better opportunity than this. Since the POW camp was empty, there was no one to hear them. He could scream out loud if he needed to and not have to worry about being discovered in a compromising position.

“Yeah, he’s gone now. So is my headache, thankfully. Which I’m glad about, because it was a real doozy. One of the passing American groups picked him up, according to the note they left in the cooler. And let me tell you, the note said Hochstetter was **pissed** when they grabbed him. So Stalag 13 is now completely empty except for us.” As he gave Klink an update, Hogan moved to the left side of the German general and sat down in his usual spot.

“I sent Langenscheidt and Schultz off to London to get their awards hours ago, since they came looking for me before I could catch a few z’s. A plane picked the two of them up, and we’ll be seeing Schultz again soon. But that’s a story for a different time,” he finished. Hogan’s nerves were unusually on edge tonight, and as he opened his mouth to speak, he found that no words would come.

It wasn’t that he was scared of Klink, mind you. Hogan wasn’t even scared of what he was certain was an upcoming spanking of the severe kind, unless he got incredibly lucky somehow. But his own feelings of guilt and shame were what was making him antsy instead. He could feel his eyes watering in anticipated dread and looked away before the tears started to fall.

He had to, unless he wanted to look like a complete wuss in front of Klink. Hell, nothing had even **happened** to him yet and he was already acting like this! The former senior POW officer felt utterly disgusted with both himself and his unexpected lapse into weakness as he fought to get himself composed again.

Klink had been glad to hear that the Gestapo officer was gone, especially as unless fate was feeling particularly cruel, they’d never see each other again. And he had a few things to say to his naughty brat as well regarding everything that’d happened earlier.

The former _Kommandant_ hadn’t been trying to be cruel when he’d told Hogan’s mother of what had been going on regarding her son. Yet he’d still figured that the American would understand why he’d done it, even if he didn’t like it. That was his **mother!** Seeing as she hadn’t known just what being in a prisoner of war camp entailed, it had been good that he’d had been the one to set her straight.

If he’d known she was that big a gossip, the tall German would have never said a word to _Frau_ Hogan about any of it. He’d just wanted her to know Hogan was alive and well, not lying dead in the wreckage of a plane somewhere. Everything else had come out somehow when she’d asked about her son, as well as things like how’d he been and what he’d been up to. If the younger officer truly felt that he could never go home due to that blunder, Klink would fix it.

How, the older man didn’t know yet, especially as he had yet to answer that question regarding himself. But Klink felt sure that together with the American general, they could figure everything out. If nothing else, he’d come to know that Robert Hogan hid a brilliant mind behind those beautiful brown eyes, and –

Klink stopped that mental train right in its tracks. He couldn’t afford to go there, and he **wouldn’t** go there. Not right now. He glanced over at Hogan, intending to open the discussion of earlier events…but what he saw made the words die on his tongue.

His brat’s shoulders were shaking, and if he really listened carefully, he could hear shallow whimpers. Those were the sounds one made when they were trying not to be heard crying, and a runny nose almost always accompanied them. Unfortunately, it was something he knew from prior experience.

That was when his sense of compassion regarding his brat kicked in, even before he quite knew what he was doing. Klink casually picked up the box of tissues and grabbed one before setting the box back down, making sure it was easily within Hogan’s reach. Then he popped out his monocle to clean the thing, even though the glass didn’t need it. Hopefully this way he’d be able to spare Hogan his dignity by making look like he’d just happened to set the box back down there.

After his monocle was cleaned and replaced in his left eye, Klink reached out and wrapped an arm around Hogan’s shoulders, pulling him close the way he had before and offering silent comfort the best way he knew how.

While he would have loved to give the American all the time in the world to compose himself, Wilhelm Klink was not a patient man. He never had been, which had been an issue for him on more than one occasion. So after a few minutes, he reached over and tipped the younger general’s face toward him, making sure he couldn’t hide. “What is wrong, Robert?”

_Oh boy, here it comes. I don’t think I’m ready for this yet!_ the younger officer thought gloomily.

He had seen the box of tissues placed wordlessly nearby him, and he appreciated what the older man was trying to do. But while Hogan was trying to decide if he needed to blow his nose or not, he felt himself pulled into a half hug. The German officer’s body heat felt good, since it was beginning to get colder now. In addition to that, he could feel Klink’s steady heartbeat as his face was held in those slender hands.

“I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know. Nothing’s wrong,” he finally said unconvincingly as he tried to turn his head away, to not stare into those impossibly blue eyes.

“That is a lie. I want the truth.” Two simple sentences were all Klink said as he kept his troublemaker from pulling away from him. He would not let his former senior POW officer shut him out so easily, nor would he allow Hogan to lie to himself anymore. The war was over, so now they could talk freely without the need for a charade.

Klink’s long fingers continued to keep their grip on Hogan’s chin, even as his other hand reached up to stroke Hogan’s black hair. It was the same way he would comfort a child, and right now the younger man seemed to be struggling with something internally, the way a child often did.

Unable to get free, he closed his own eyes instead. _Get a grip, Rob! You’re falling apart. Just tell Klink what’s on your mind before you finish driving yourself nuts!_ It was a good idea, and he intended to listen to it. But before he could figure out what he wanted to say first, he felt the hand not holding his face gently stroke his hair. The small gesture – even though it was done with no commentary – proved to help Hogan open up and explain what was going on inside his head.

“You don’t understand. I’ve been running this operation for the last three years, and espionage is dangerous. We all had to make sacrifices in the war, but as the senior POW officer in command, I’ve made more than my fair share,” Hogan finally said.

The words began to fall from his lips, and with each one the American felt a little better. “I won’t deny that I did my duty and did what I had to do. But that doesn’t mean I feel any better about it. I probably could’ve done some things without involving you so heavily, but…ugh, I dunno,” he added with a long sigh.

“I guess the best word to describe everything I’m feeling right now is guilt. Guilt and shame, because I still haven’t told you everything. There’s so much crap I’ve dragged you through since I’ve been here, and some of it I could’ve left you out of,” Hogan finished. He was torn between feeling relieved that everything was coming to light and being afraid that he’d be mocked for how he felt.

“Robert, you only did what needed to be done,” replied Klink, his arm still around his brat. He let go of Hogan’s face and gave his shoulders a squeeze as he talked. “I am not overly happy with the choices I have made in my life either. Originally I wanted to be a doctor, but I was not smart enough to pass the entrance exams. I never wanted to be in the military at all, as a matter of fact, but every man in my family has been for generations. Thus, it was expected of me. I had sometimes entertained the idea of being able to fly a plane as a young boy, so I joined the _Luftwaffe_.”

The German general sighed wearily before speaking again. “I had no plans to re-enlist in the military either after the first war, because I was done with having all the killing and death surround me constantly. But there was a draft, and so I was called back into service. At that point, I thought about joining the _Heer_. Ultimately, I obviously decided against it.”

“Why didn’t you join the _Heer_ this time around?” asked Hogan, whose eyes had opened of their own accord out of natural curiosity.

Klink rolled his eyes. “And have General Burkhalter as my direct superior constantly? No, thank you.”

“But he’s that right now anyway,” Hogan pointed out. “So what difference does it make?”

“All the difference in the world,” said Klink evenly. “If another _Luftwaffe_ general came along that outranked me, they could theoretically take Burkhalter’s place in that position. Even if they were both of the same rank, or even if the new man was of a lower one. Being in the same branch of the military overrides the number of pips in this case,” Klink replied.

“Pips?” repeated Hogan, unfamiliar with the term. “What’s a pip?”

Klink pointed to where the stars would be on Hogan’s uniform collar. “They are equivalent to your stars, Robert.” He let out a sigh and continued what he’d been saying. “I never even wanted to be the _Kommandant_ here either, but I figured at least I could make sure those who were in my camp were treated well. Or as well as I could get away with doing, at any rate.”

A shiver rippled through the tall German as a few memories flashed through his mind. “I had seen firsthand how prisoners of war were treated in World War One, but only heard mere rumors of it in the war that just ended. Yet the rumors were disturbing enough for me, and I resolved to never be that sort of _Kommandant_. I do not know if you noticed or not, because I was focused on other things. But any time that my prisoners were threatened, I put whoever was making the threat in their place.”

Hogan nodded, wondering about the sudden backbone he’d seen displayed at times only for it quickly disappear again. “Yeah, everyone here noticed that. It seemed weird, considering most of the time you just kowtowed to whoever was visiting that day,” he said. “No offense.”

“None taken, Robert. I know that I was not the bravest man, that is true. But by bowing to everyone’s wishes, it kept them happy. And that meant that Stalag 13 was left alone for the most part,” Klink said.

“Except for Hochstetter,” Hogan felt compelled to add. “He seemed to like coming here a lot, even if nobody else wanted him around.”

Klink nodded and shrugged nonchalantly. “Indeed. As you have said many times, he needs a hobby.”

He was pleased with the small smile that crossed Hogan’s features. Then Klink gave the younger general what he hoped was a reassuring glance and squeezed his shoulders again. “Now, tell me all of it. I want to hear everything that has happened since you have arrived here.”

Hogan gulped hard as he nodded, the mood in the room quickly shifting to a more somber one with that request. “I’ll tell you, sir. But know this…I decided a long time ago that you deserved to know the truth after the war…the whole, unaltered truth. So I need you to hear me out, and to not interrupt me while I talk. It’s gonna be hard enough to tell you everything as it is, and I already know ‘livid’ is going to be a huge understatement when you hear everything that’s happened here in the last three years.”

Holy shit, this was a lot harder to say then he’d planned on. “And I already know there’s no way I’m getting off scot-free after all this, because you would have to be the most forgiving man on the planet for that.”

The younger officer took a deep breath, the sound shaky as he spoke the words he’d been dreading having to say. “So while I’m talking, I need you to decide how much you’re going to…to…sp-sp-spank me for all of this,” he managed to choke out. “And also what you plan on using to do it as well.”

Hogan’s cheeks flamed a dark red at the mortifying words. “This is extremely hard for me to say at all. Believe me, you have no idea just how hard it is. Still, I told myself a long time ago that I’d submit to whatever punishment you thought was fair for everything after the war. Even if it meant receiving several sp-sp-spankings from you.”

God above, why did he have such problems with that one word? “Obviously, I really hope it doesn’t. But that’s your call and your call alone, _Kommandant_. I’m a man of my word, and I’ll accept whatever you decide to do to me.”

With that said, the American closed his eyes, unable to look Klink in the face while he talked. He began to tell the tall German of everything he and his team had done, from the time the Unsung Heroes’ mission had begun up until the end of the war.

When the new general was finished speaking, he said, “That’s everything, sir. Now you know.”

In a small voice, he asked, “What…what are you going to do to me?” Hogan’s stomach was doing rapid backflips, and the terrible silence hanging in the air wasn’t helping it any.

Only the older general’s steady grip around his shoulders physically kept him from bolting into the night and never looking back. That small measure of comfort kept him sitting there and seeing this through, and the fact that Klink hadn’t shoved him away yet in anger or disgust helped as well. Hogan might have had his code of honor, but even he had limits regarding how much he could handle.

In an attempt to anchor himself more firmly emotionally, the American general fisted his hands into Klink’s bathrobe and rested his head against the German one’s chest. He already knew that could be rejected by his self-appointed disciplinarian at any moment. So he would take any comfort he could get for right now.

For an entire hour, Klink had sat there and said nothing at all per Hogan’s request. Though he really, **really** wanted to, he knew such a tale had be difficult to reveal. Absorbing the entire wild story all at once sent a variety of emotions through the tall German, but the most prominent one was waves of delayed worry mixed with anger.

That feeling was followed by pure anger at being constantly manipulated by his former senior POW officer all this time. From what Klink understood of all this, his troublemaker had thrown himself headlong into multiple situations where he could have been killed more times than he could count. And there had apparently almost had been a few times where Hogan had escaped by the skin of his teeth, in addition to everything else.

He’d been warring with how he felt the whole time, all while giving Hogan’s question the serious consideration it deserved. Knowing the silence probably wasn’t doing a thing for his brat’s nerves, Klink finally spoke, his tone cold despite himself. “Robert. Edward. Hogan,” he said, spacing out each word as he bit them off.

“Are you **insane**?” the former _Kommandant_ demanded to know, wondering if Hogan was truly crazy or if he was just that big an adrenaline junkie. “You have just informed me of so many foolish things that you have done over the last three years, yet you somehow expect leniency from me? You put others’ lives at risk many times, not to mention your own! And –”

Klink abruptly cut himself off, realizing that he was raising his voice without meaning to. “What would you do in this situation, if our roles were reversed?” he asked Hogan, wondering if the decision he’d come to was too harsh.

He already knew what he **wanted** to do, but that decision was fighting with the desire to let his charge off easy. And the way the younger general was clinging to him like a life preserver wasn’t helping that desire any. _Damn it!_

Hogan heard his full name said in that cold tone of voice and mentally winced. It didn’t sound any better now than it had earlier. He also kept his head and hands right where they were as he questioned, “You mean if I was in your shoes, sir?” He was perfectly aware what he was being asked, but he was stalling for time anyway.

After Klink nodded his confirmation of that, the American general let out a long sigh. “Honestly?” he asked.

Hogan had a sudden, strong urge to be anything **but** honest with his answer! Yet he knew Klink would only see right through it, and the end result would guarantee that he’d be worse off. He sure didn’t need any help to do that, because he was managing it just fine right now.

After receiving another nod, Hogan made sure he was looking down at his lap first as the uncertainty returned to his tone. “I would spend the next three days completely wearing your butt out. You wouldn’t be permanently damaged from it or anything, mind you. But I’d make damn sure you learned such a severe lesson, there’s no way you’d never forget it. I couldn’t just let something this big go, even if I wanted to,” he said sadly.

He was already anticipating how badly his rear end was going to hurt, and those same thoughts caused his stomach to twist into knots. “But I’d forgive you for everything after the three days were up,” the younger officer added quickly. Despite his voice becoming small again, it was still full of hope.

“I thought as much,” Klink replied slowly, ignoring Hogan’s choice of language as a thoughtful look crossed his face. “We do appear to think a lot alike.”

He glanced over at Hogan, noting that his brat looked like a sorry little boy in a whole world of trouble. _Which is exactly what he is,_ Klink thought grimly. While the fact that the American already showed remorse and guilt was a good sign, it didn’t change much in the way of things. His nephews had done something similar before, and the one time he’d let them off the hook when they had looked that way had ended up being a big mistake. The tall German liked to think that he learned from his mistakes, so that didn’t bode well for his troublemaker’s ability to sit down any time soon.

Klink let out a heavy sigh as he voiced his verdict, really wishing it hadn’t come to this. “Three appears to be the magic number tonight, Robert. It has been three years of your shenanigans, and we are here for the next three days. So I think a spanking each day with three different implements would be fair. It would not be all at once, though. A different one would be used on you each time,” he stated adamantly.

“Does that sound reasonable to you?” he asked his former senior POW officer. The older man wasn’t trying to embarrass him in any way, but he did genuinely want to know how Hogan felt about his decision.

“Yes sir,” the American general whispered, still looking at his lap as he felt his chest tighten in dread. A small part of it was caused by hearing verbal confirmation that he wasn’t getting out of being punished, but the bigger part was caused by the fact that Klink hadn’t said **which** implements he planned on using.

Figuring maybe he could get the answer to that question without asking it directly, Hogan spoke again, his voice sounding a bit shaky once again. “I just have one request regarding your decision, sir.”

“What would that be?” inquired Klink curiously, wondering if his troublemaker was going to try and wiggle out of this somehow.

Feeling his cheeks heating up again from blushing, Hogan stammered out his question. “Would you mind…that is, whatever you decide to use…ugh!”

He was having trouble thinking how to phrase this, and it showed. “Look, could you just start with the most painful one and end with the least painful one, sir?” he asked hurriedly.

“Trying to get the worst one out of the way first, I take it?” prodded Klink gently, making sure they were on the same wavelength as they talked.

Hogan shook his head. “No. Well, yes.” _Oh, that’s not confusing at **all** , Rob,_ his inner voice said sarcastically. _How about clearing that up a little, huh?_

“What I meant was that something severe will obviously hurt more. But if it’s done when my butt is already sore from a prior punishment, it’ll hurt twice as bad,” he explained.

Although come to think of it, Klink’s idea made sense too. “Unless…unless that was your intention, sir,” he asked, praying with everything in him that it wasn’t.

Thankfully, Klink shook his head. “No. That would **never** be my intention, Robert,” he said firmly. “I am not cruel like that.”

Resolving to take pity on his unruly troublemaker, he told Hogan the rest of what he’d decided to do. “Yes, I can do that for you. Per your request, that would mean the belt tonight, a hairbrush spanking tomorrow, and a round using the plastic spoon with holes on the third day,” he said. The German general was watching Hogan carefully to be sure that he would be alright, not lose his composure.

Klink didn’t know what was going through his former senior POW officer’s mind right now. Still, he attempted to soften the verbal bomb he knew that he’d just dropped. “But I will not lecture you during those punishments, and I will not draw it out in any way. I will still make sure I cover your entire bottom, of course, do not misunderstand me. However, I will mostly focus on your sit spots if you wish,” he offered, hoping that would help his brat in some small way.

The older man recalled that Hogan had stated before those were the most tender areas of his behind, which meant that any swats to them would hurt far more than anything else he could do. And if it would help him reach his breaking point faster, then so be it.

While he’d had been glad to hear Klink wasn’t purposely setting out to make this agonizing for him, the implements he’d rattled off had made Hogan glad he was already sitting down. There was no way his legs would’ve supported him if he’d been standing up right now. He’d already been expecting this to be pretty bad, but the resulting announcement had actually topped his expectations!

And he wasn’t sure how to feel about the sit spots offer. That one was still a toss-up in his mind, but he knew he had to say something, and quickly. The American general’s face lost some of its color as he asked weakly, “Why those implements, sir? Those are all the worst ones.”

_What have I done?_ Hogan though, amazed at how stupid he could be sometimes. _I’m **literally** never going to be able to sit down again after Klink’s through with me. Oh man, this is the stupidest thing I ever did, _he berated himself.

“Yes,” Klink agreed slowly. He actually looked unhappy about all of this as well while he explained the reasoning behind his decision. “One implement will cover everything that happened over the course of a single year. After each punishment is over, all the transgressions resulting in it will be forgiven and forgotten. After the third day is done, you will have an entirely clean slate with me. Well, so long as there is nothing else you have not told me about. And from what you said earlier, the first two years are when you put your life at risk the most.”

Klink sighed and stroked the younger man’s hair again, needing Hogan to understand why he was being so harsh about this. “I am glad in a way that I did not know about any of this before now, because I would have been worried sick about you each time you went outside the wires. You do realize that, correct?” he asked, making sure he caught Hogan’s eyes as he spoke.

“Worried about me…each time?” asked Hogan, wondering if he’d heard that right. “As in, you wouldn’t have stopped us from doing what we needed to do? You’d have just let us go out and trusted that we’d come back?” he finished in disbelief. 

Given the fact he’d heard about Klink’s perfect ‘no escape’ record _ad nauseam_ , he found that idea rather difficult to swallow. He wanted so badly to tell the German officer that Schultz had known about them this entire time in order to ease that guilt too, but he couldn’t do that.

The fat sergeant was still subordinate to Klink, and he’d been a good friend to the Heroes besides. Therefore, Hogan refused to ruin Schultz’s military career or cause him any problems. The only way he would ever mention it to the German general was if the guard himself granted him permission to do so. If not, it was just something he’d have to live with.

To Hogan’s amazement, Klink replied, “Yes. I admit I would have been very surprised to learn about everything you were doing. And I would have also been very upset at the risks you were taking, as I am now. But it is easy enough to turn a blind eye if one truly desires to. Sergeant Schultz managed to do it for years,” he pointed out in a reasonable tone of voice.

“Although I am sure that he probably knew **something** about what you were doing. He was almost always in or near Barracks 2, and I am certain that you had to plot your schemes while he was there at some point. Yet whatever he knew, it was obviously not enough to warrant informing me of it,” the tall German added.

It was only from years of perfecting his poker face that Hogan was able to avoid visibly reacting to that statement. Klink had just twisted the knife made of guilt deeper into his chest with his words, and he wasn’t doing it on purpose either. Come to think of it, that only made it worse. Resolving that he and the fat sergeant needed to have a short talk about the whole thing the next time they saw each other, Hogan continued to listen to the tall German speak.

Klink kept stroking Hogan’s hair absentmindedly as he talked. “And I trust you, Robert. If you had told your men that they needed to return to the camp even though I knew what they were up to, they would have done so. Not happily, but they would have listened to you. Every little bit of time you would not have had to spend hiding your operation from me could have gone towards helping end the war sooner,” he said.

“Of course, I would have had to be the heartless _Kommandant_ with you at times as well, Robert. I will not deny that. But that would have only been whenever visitors came to Stalag 13,” he added.

Sighing wearily, the older man finished his thoughts. “But what is done is done. We cannot change the past, and we have other matters that need attending to in the present moment.”

_Annnnnd those innocent proclamations just made me feel worse,_ Hogan concluded. “Okay,” he said gloomily as he reluctantly let go of Klink and stood up.

Damnmit, he already missed being wrapped in a comforting hug and having his hair played with. _Yup, I’ve lost it,_ Hogan concluded.

“Awaiting your directions, sir,” he said sincerely and formally as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Somewhere along the way, it’d become a new nervous habit of his.

“Head toward my room, Robert. I shall be there in a moment,” Klink replied.

“Okay. Wait, your room, sir?” Hogan asked, confused about why they were going in there instead of the guest bedroom.

“Yes, Hogan,” came the reply, along with a raised eyebrow. “I thought perhaps you would sleep better in the guest bedroom tonight without the fact that your punishments also take place there hanging over your head.” _Good lord, you mean my troublemaker really did not think that far ahead?_ wondered Klink.

“Oh…right. You’re right, of course,” Hogan said, feeling dumb for not having considered that. It surprised him that the German officer **had** , though. Klink was turning out to be a far cry from the idiot everyone had thought he was! “I’ll meet you in there, sir.”

“Alright,” Klink said, watching the American general walk away before heading toward the guest bedroom himself. He needed to get the ropes he’d used last time, and he was sure they were still under the mattress where he’d left them. If not, they would have to improvise somehow.

**_ Prelude to round one… _ **

“Might I inquire just what you are wearing under your bathrobe, Robert? I saw your clothes folded on the dresser in the guest bedroom, and it is not as if you have a massive wardrobe,” said Klink as he entered the room. The ropes were held loosely in one hand as he spoke and headed for the bed to begin tying them.

Hogan looked up at the older man from where he was sitting on the bed. He figured he ought to sit down while he could, because he knew he wouldn’t be doing much of it come the next three days! “Just my underwear, sir. I haven’t exactly gotten the opportunity to sleep in just that during the last three years, so I seized the opportunity while I had it.”

“And you were not cold?” questioned Klink as he moved to tie the second rope to the bed.

Hogan shook his head. “Nope. I’m pretty hot-blooded, something that’s come in pretty handy with these ridiculously cold German winters.”

The subject of his clothes suddenly reminded him of something he’d been meaning to ask. “I do have a question for you, though.”

“So ask me,” Klink responded in a neutral tone as he moved to the other side of the bed and began tying the third rope.

Sucking in a lungful of air, Hogan asked cautiously, “Would you…would you mind if I continued to stay in your quarters with you for the next three days? Just until London sends that package over,” he added hastily. “Then we can leave, and I’ll obviously sleep in the guest bedroom.”

He recapped his thoughts from earlier to the older general, who had finished tying the third rope and moved onto the last one. “If you don’t mind, I mean. If you do, I can go back to my barracks. But I just thought –”

“Robert,” interrupted Klink as he finished his task and moved to sit next to Hogan. “That is fine with me, and it makes perfect sense. Why waste precious resources heating two buildings for only two people?”

His troublemaker had been babbling, which was something Hogan wasn’t normally did. Not to mention the subject matter had make Klink look like he’d been slapped, which Hogan saw and misinterpreted.

The younger man’s face fell as saw the shocked look and said quietly, “Yeah, I can tell you’re over the moon about the idea. Forget I said anything,” he replied, sounding disappointed.

Why the rejection disappointed him, Hogan couldn’t have said. Any normal person wouldn’t have even asked such a thing, and if they had, a ‘no’ wouldn’t have bothered them.

Blinking slowly, Klink mentally backtracked through their conversation. He was trying to figure out where it had derailed, because Hogan looked disappointed even though he’d said yes to the request! _Robert asked me if he could stay here for three days…check. I said yes…check. He looks upset…but why?_

Yes, that was where the problem lie. _Did I do something…oh. Oh!_ Sometimes he was a bit slower at picking up cues, but he’d found the issue this time. Or so he hoped.

“Robert, I think we may have had another misunderstanding here,” the older general finally remarked with an amused shake of his head.

“What’s to misunderstand? I asked you a question, and you answered yes to it. But despite what you verbally told me, your expression looked like I just hauled off and punched you,” explained the American moodily. “It’s fine. Really. I’ll be okay.”

_Yes, that was it,_ Klink mentally confirmed, happy that he’d figured it out. He really needed to work on controlling his facial expressions better.

“And you are telling me another whopper as you are prone to do, little brat,” the tall German stated as he nudged Hogan’s shoulder, trying to indicate in a non-verbal way to his troublemaker that he wasn’t upset about the idea.

“I looked that way because I was shocked you would want to be anywhere near me more than necessary, not because you offended me in any way. I would be happy to have you here in my quarters,” he added.

Since Hogan still didn’t look all the way convinced of that, he added another, more personal reason for his decision. “It gets lonely here, and you are excellent company,” Klink reluctantly admitted. “You exasperate me to no end at times, but my life is never boring with you around. I do believe you told me once that you always came to see me in my office to ‘brighten up my day’, did you not?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

_I exasperate him to no end, but his life is never boring with me around?_ repeated Hogan mentally. That was an unusual way to compliment someone, but he supposed it was Klink’s strange way of saying, ‘I like you.’ Whatever, he could work with it.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better? Because I also remember you saying during that same conversation that I ‘could do with making your day a little **less** interesting.’ Not exactly a confidence booster there, sir,” Hogan felt compelled to point out.

“Yes, less **interesting**. You succeed admirably when you only focus on brightening it up, Robert,” Klink replied dryly with an eyeroll.

“And no, I am not only attempting to make you feel better. I do not generally say things that I do not mean. You may stay here with me, if that is what you would like to do. If I had my way, I would keep you around forever, but that is not possible.” Then Klink snapped his mouth shut and blushed, realizing how that could be interpreted.

“Well, why not?” asked Hogan, wondering why Klink was blushing. He knew how **he’d** like to take that comment, but he also knew for a fact that he was on the entirely wrong track now with those thoughts.

“I still have to figure out where I’m going to live after I leave here. Like I said before, I can’t go back home. I told you my mom is the town gossip, and I really wish I were kidding about her telling everyone about what you said. The entire town probably knows by now,” he remarked dejectedly.

It was his turn to blush at the idea of the not-so-subtle pointing, the loud whispers and the mocking insults he’d get if he returned to his hometown. “I’d like to see more of Germany than just the inside of these wires, and…well, a native tour guide would be kind of cool. If you wanted to,” Hogan added, giving voice to the thoughts he’d had months ago. “We were always pressed for time whenever we went out, and the whole could-be-shot-and-killed-as-a-spy thing tends to kill the mood.”

“I-I-I don’t know,” stammered Klink as he was caught off guard. “P-Perhaps.” That hadn’t been the response he’d been expecting, and it generated an image of them holding hands as they walked down the street together. _No! Knock it off, Wilhelm!_ his common sense screamed.

But Hogan was blushing for some reason as well. _Why?_ the _Luftwaffe_ general wondered, even as he forced the thought away.

Their conversation had obviously derailed at some point again, so he needed to get it back on track quickly. “I would…I would not be opposed to that idea, but we can discuss it later on. For now, just wait here.”

He grabbed something Hogan couldn’t see from his dresser, along with his boots before adding, “I will return shortly.”

After Klink had left the room, Hogan placed his face in the palms of his hands and groaned. While it was awesome that Klink had agreed to let him stay here for the next three days, he half wished now that he hadn’t asked. He was having more and more trouble with being around the tall German alone, in the sense that he was noticing things he shouldn’t be noticing about the former _Kommandant_. He was also thinking thoughts he had no business thinking about the older man as well.

And for a few seconds when Klink had said he wished he could keep him around forever, Hogan’s mind had shown him a picture of the two of them together. And not as friends, but as a couple! But why had the older man began stammering like that when he’d asked an innocent question?

_You’re seeing things that aren’t there, Rob,_ his common sense tried to reason with him. _It’s been a long time for both of you. As soon as you and Klink find some willing women and have sex with them, this tension between you two will disappear. You’ll see._ Hogan just wished he were as sure of that as his common sense seemed to be.

Unfortunately, that was when the subject of his current thoughts chose to return to the room. Hogan heard the footsteps and looked up, his jaw dropping in surprise. “What the heck?” he said in a low voice. “Why are dressed like that? Aren’t you cold?”

Klink was dressed in his old uniform pants, the ones of a _Luftwaffe_ colonel. He wore the familiar knee high, polished black jackboots as well. But that was it. From the waist up, he wore nothing at all. Such a state of undress meant that the long, thin dueling scar across his right side was visible, along with a few other ones on his back.

The placement of the dueling scar meant that it rippled whenever Klink moved, and the American general knew that a wound in that spot had probably hurt like hell when it was fresh. He’d also taken his monocle out at some point, presumably when he went to change. In addition to everything else, he held a belt in his slender hands. The overall effect was both spellbinding and frightening, as evidenced by the sudden clenching of Hogan’s stomach.

“Damn, you should go into the Hofbrau dressed like that if you wanted to get a woman’s complete attention,” Hogan said offhandedly, trying to hide the fact that Klink had his complete attention too. _C’mon Rob, snap out of it! Think of Hilda! Or Tiger… **anybody** , as long as it’s a woman,_ his voice of reason yelled at him.

“Language, Robert. And I do not get cold that easily, so I am fine. Besides, I have more freedom of movement in my arms with no shirt on. And the boots help my feet to grip the floor better,” explained Klink patiently.

“However, I would like to know what makes you say such a thing. Do you really think that is true?” he asked. Klink turned in a slow circle, trying to somehow see what Hogan thought was so amazing that it would guarantee him a _fräulein_. He was also was complemented that his troublemaker had noticed how he was dressed. Or rather, not dressed.

“Have you looked in a mirror at **all** when you’re dressed like that, _Kommandant_? I mean, with your monocle in so you can see yourself properly, of course.” The American officer was unwilling to believe that even Klink was that oblivious. _How can anybody possibly miss it when they look good? Most people are always aware of that type of thing,_ he thought. “I can’t picture **any** woman turning you down if you approached her dressed that way, not unless she was blind.”

Realizing he was treading way too close to dangerous territory, Hogan abruptly changed tactics. “Hey, maybe that was the problem you had when there were women here before. You were wearing too many clothes,” said the former senior POW officer with a smirk as he firmly pushed those types of thoughts away yet again.

“Very funny, Robert. I am a gentleman, and I would never do that. It would imply that I had improper intentions,” replied the German in a sour tone as he hid his amusement. He also stomped down the fleeting pleasure it gave him that Hogan thought he looked good, along with anything else related to that subject!

“We might as well get started. Up you get, and lie down on your stomach,” Klink directed his troublemaker. Then he pondered his options for a moment, trying to think about the best way to do this.

“If you take off your bathrobe first, I can drape it over your back like a blanket after I secure you in place. It would help keep you warm,” Klink mused. “Or I can just drape it over your eyes, like a blindfold. That way you would not be able to see what was coming,” he offered, trying to make this as easy as he could for his soon-to-be-sore brat. “Either way, it needs to come off so that you do not rip it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hogan sighed, having been dreading this moment and enjoying the brief reprieve while it lasted. He removed the bathrobe and carefully set it aside before moving his hands to his waistband. Luckily, he was stopped by Klink before he got any further.

“What are you doing, Robert?” inquired the older man with a frown. Hogan had more twists and turns to him then the worst mountain road, and the _Luftwaffe_ general was baffled about what he was currently doing.

Freezing in place, Hogan said slowly, “Um…doing what you said I had to do before? The two things I objected to, but that you insisted on starting the night Carter blew up the officer’s mess?”

He had a puzzled look on his face as he prompted the German general, not overly happy that he had to do so. _How Klink could forget the fact that I’m supposed to bare my own butt and ask him to spank me – when **he’s** the one that said it in the first place – is beyond me,_ Hogan thought morosely.

“What are you…oh!” Klink shook his head as he remembered what he’d said before. “No, Robert. I can respect your courage in telling me everything you have done during the war, so that will no longer be necessary. Just get on the bed, please.”

He couldn’t believe that his troublemaker had both remembered what he’d said about that previously **and** that he’d been about to do it without being instructed to! It seemed there were many hidden layers to the younger general, and Klink found that he wanted to find them all.

“Yes, sir,” replied Hogan as he did what he was told to do. After getting comfortable and putting his head on the pillow, he watched Klink begin to carefully restrain him. “I think I’d be okay if you used my bathrobe as a makeshift blindfold for me, _Kommandant_ ,” he finally decided. “I’m sure it won’t make things any worse, but it might make them a little better.”

As Klink nodded silently and moved to drape said bathrobe over his eyes, Hogan asked, “You know that offer you made me earlier? You know, the spot thing? The sit spot one?”

The words were awkward, given the fact he had trouble making his tongue work. “I think that’d be the best thing to do for the next three days,” he managed to say, feeling utterly humiliated as he spoke.

“Alright. If that is what you would prefer, then I shall do that for you, my brat,” Hogan could hear Klink’s reply, but he obviously couldn’t see the tall German. Even so, the tone sounded affectionate and not mocking, which was good.

Then Hogan closed his eyes and then opened them again as a test, but the level of darkness under the bathrobe was the same. He could feel his limbs being tied down one by one, and as each one was bound, his stomach made more and more knots. By the time his last limb was bound, the former senior POW officer felt like the knots were tight enough to hold a ship to the dock.

It was at that point he heard the words, “Lift your hips slightly, Robert,” from Klink. Hogan complied with the order, hoping that the bathrobe over his eyes hid the blush on his cheeks as well. God, he hated feeling this low. But the upward swing of emotions afterward was so worth it, which was a slightly concerning discovery.

At times like these, it made the younger general seriously wonder if he needed some type of mental help to sort his life out. The cool air that caressed his bare butt wasn’t helping at all either. Rather, it was a form of psychological torture instead. Just the temperature change made his skin hypersensitive and tingly, which was the last thing he needed right now.

As he heard the whistle of a few test swings cut through the silence, Hogan blurted out, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry! I’m really, **really** sorry about everything. Heck, I’m sorry we even have to do this as well.” It was probably the dumbest thing he’d ever say, but he’d be damned if he could get his mind to work properly right now either.

“I am very certain that you are, and I am as well, Robert. But it needs to be done irregardless,” said Klink, his voice sounding oddly emotional. “You do understand that I am not so much angry at what you **did** , but rather the multiple risks that you took with your life?” He had to make sure his troublemaker knew he wasn’t just doing this for kicks!

“Yes, sir,” whispered Hogan, feeling oddly submissive at that moment. While the feeling was strange, it wasn’t altogether unwelcome either.

“And you also understand why that was not okay, even despite the war?” Klink asked him, making quite sure that they understood each other.

“Yes, sir,” he repeated in a whisper, his voice sounding choked up. “As long as you can honestly say you’ll care about me again afterwards, I’ll weather this somehow. I always do,” the American added gloomily.

There was a short pause and a heavy sigh before Klink answered him back. “I never stopped caring, Robert. I care about you now, and I will continue to care about you after this is over. Now, let us begin so we can put this behind us.”

**_ Round one: the belt… _ **

“Just do it,” said Hogan in a trembling voice. _It was nice not being in pain while it lasted,_ he thought sadly.

Immediately, he heard the leather whistle through the air. The first swat struck his bare butt a few seconds later. **SMACK!** Just as before, fire flowed under the skin where it had landed. Unlike before, Klink didn’t wait before he struck twice more. **SMACK! SMACK!**

“Oww!” Hogan cried out. It was even worse than he’d remembered, and the fact that his skin was oversensitive right now wasn’t helping matters for him.

“Owww, OW!” While he was trying to decide if the makeshift blindfold made things better or worse, he felt the belt strike his rear end several more times.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OW! OW, OWW, OWW!” He tried to kick his feet, but as the rope was tied to his ankles and the bed, all he could really do was wiggle his toes. Hogan was actually grateful for the ropes, because he knew there was no way he’d have been able to hold still for this.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWW!” he hollered, wondering how he got himself into these situations.

True to his word, Klink wasn’t lecturing him. He wasn’t saying anything at all actually, and Hogan wondered fleetingly how he was holding up during all of this. _Must be too busy lighting my tail on fire to say much,_ he thought mournfully before he gritted out, “Hey – OWW! – you doing – OWWW! – okay back there – OWW! – sir?”

There was a short, bitter laugh before he heard Klink say, “I am fine, Robert, although I do not know why you are asking me that. I could inquire the same of you, but the answer seems rather obvious to me.” The older general’s voice sounded strange for some reason to the younger man as the spanking continued on.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Just – OWW! – making sure. I’ve been – OW! – a whole – OWW! – lot better,” he managed to reply. Then he felt the belt start in on his sit spots, which caused an immediate, amplified reaction.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWIE! OWWW, OWWIE, OWWWIE!” Hogan squealed in pain, glad he didn’t have to worry about keeping his voice down any longer. Holy crap, those spots always hurt worse than anywhere else. He’d forgotten just how badly all of this hurt as his bare behind was thoroughly thrashed.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWIE, OWWWWWIE!” he shrieked, tossing his head from side to side. Fortunately, his bathrobe was made of a heavy enough material that it stayed in place.

“God, this hurts so bad!” the American cried, thankful he was at least being spanked with this particular implement on the first night and not the last.

The belt cracked down on his sore buttcheeks again, successfully toasting them to what felt like charcoal. The results were terrible as Hogan screamed repeatedly, making promises to anybody and everybody who would listen that he was sorry, he’d learned his lesson, and that he’d never do anything so stupid ever again. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWIE, OWWWWWIE, OWWWW!” he wailed loudly, certain he sounded pitiful.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** As the belt returned back to his sit spots, Hogan continued to repeat to the heavens how sorry he was. He pleaded for something to grant him mercy, along with anything else he possibly could think of to help him keep it together during his spanking. Anything at all would do, really. At this point, he wasn’t going to be picky!

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Taking full advantage of the fact that he knew he was going to end up a blubbering mess anyhow, he let every ounce of guilt, shame and humiliation he felt right now wash over him in order to get rid of the feelings for the moment. And all the while, he continued to cry out in pain.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** The belt felt like it was biting into the tender skin of his sit spots, as if it could draw blood. The American officer also knew when he looked at his butt later on, it wouldn’t look anywhere near as bad as it felt.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that the lava was here once again, or that his bottom was sorer than it’d ever been before. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWIE! OWWW, OWWWWWW, OWWIE, OWWWWWIE!”

“I’m never gonna sit down again! OWWW! I’m so, so sorry! OWWWIE! Please, have mercy! OWW! Sir, I’m sorry, I’m **sorry!** OWWW! Please, **please!** OWW! Forgive me, I’m sorrrrrrry! OWWWWWIE!” he shrieked, right before he began to bawl uncontrollably.

Hogan hated beyond anything else how he felt right now, which was like a very sorry, very well-spanked little boy. The knowledge that he had to do this again tomorrow night and the night afterward only served to make him bawl even harder. And his rear end was totally on fire now, so even with different implements it would still be agonizing. Then he let his body go completely limp, past the point of caring as the tears began to fall in the darkness surrounding him.

**_ The first round of aftercare… _ **

The next thing Hogan knew, there was a dip in the mattress beside him. And for some reason, the inside of his eyelids seemed to be glowing. _What the hell?_ he thought as he opened his eyes, only to shut them quickly as the light hit them. “What –”

But Klink cut him off before he could say anything else. “Sssh, sssh Robert. Just listen to me, alright?” He’d untied the clearly chastised American before he’d sat down next to him and moved the blindfold away.

“Sure. Too…bright,” Hogan managed to croak out tearfully, unable to figure out what was so damn bright that he couldn’t see. That bothered him, but he wasn’t in any shape to do much about it right now. Even so, he focused on pulling himself back together now that the worst part of it was done.

“Of course.” The dip disappeared as Klink quickly stood and turned off the lamp before making his way back to the bed. Instead of sitting next to him again though, Klink hoisted him to his feet.

Then the German general held him steady before he sat down, placed every pillow on the bed on his lap – which was two, as Hogan would recall later on – and carefully guided his contrite brat so that he was sitting on his lap.

The pillows helped to provide a cushion as Klink locked his arms around the American general, placing Hogan’s head on his chest as he cradled him. He reasoned that even though his troublemaker’s bottom was quite sore, this was a far more intimate way to comfort him. The pillows would provide ample cushioning as well, and the older man could prove in his own way just how much he’d come to care about Hogan since they’d first met.

Klink was just trying to figure out why he’d been screaming like that, because his brat’s behind was only a dark pink. It had been purple and bruised the very first time he’d been punished that way, but he hadn’t screamed this much then. _Maybe Robert’s sit spots really **are** that sensitive,_ he deduced.

After all, they had been the main focus of the spanking. Per Hogan’s request, of course. He knew it probably seemed like an eternity to the American, but he’d glanced at the clock before and after the spanking. Surprisingly, it’d only lasted ten minutes.

Since the younger man was still slightly out of it, all he could do was let out a hiss of pain and say, “Owww!” Everything had happened pretty quickly, although that could be due to the current distortion of events going on at the moment as well.

“Sorry!” Klink apologized hastily, content to hold his brat and soothe him as he forced his heartbeat to return to normal. He could feel it slamming against his rib cage, and the screams Hogan had made earlier would be etched into his mind forever. It had been all he could do to not end the spanking after the first two minutes of hearing the pitiful cries, having had to fight his sense of compassion in order to continue it.

Yet his principles in that regard wouldn’t have let him end it anyway, even if he’d wanted to. And he was sure his troublemaker wouldn’t appreciate such a thing either, given his mulish penchant to see things through. Klink could, however, make sure that this particular implement was never used to spank Hogan ever again.

Unwilling to risk shifting his obviously sore charge again in any way, the tall German used the hand holding Hogan in place to rub his back and help soothe him. The other hand he used to stroke the American’s dark hair, which helped calm both of them down. God help him, but he could get used to comforting his brat whenever he needed it. Or even just holding him like this, really.

That thought alone was enough to send an icy chill down Klink’s spine, because he shouldn’t be this attached to his former senior POW officer. If for no other reason at all, he was a German and they had been official enemies during the war.

He was positive that Hogan’s friends and family would never accept a German officer – or any other German, actually – in the young general’s life. And even if Hogan told them to bugger off, Klink’s mere presence in his life would make things very uncomfortable for the tearful American in his arms.

With a start, he realized he would have to let Hogan go. He had hoped otherwise, but they could never even be friends. The older general knew what it was like to be ostracized from other people, so he definitely wasn’t going to be the cause of that for anyone else. As soon as London dropped off whatever package Hogan was waiting for, Klink would make sure the other officer left. He would also make sure that **he** stayed behind.

Taking a deep breath, he began to speak in his native tongue. He was well aware how much the American liked to hear it, and he knew Hogan could understand him just as well as if he were speaking in English. _Might as well,_ he decided. _It is now or never._

“Robert, please forgive me. I am so sorry, little one. You are so brave, and I have put you through so much needlessly.” Klink stroked his black hair, continuing to speak softly as his accent grew thicker with his distress.

“Your screams of pain will haunt me forever, and I will not ever lay a hand on you again in such a way.” It was Klink’s turn to have a shaky voice, but he prevented any other emotions from surfacing by pure strength of will. This was Robert’s time to decompress, and he could cry himself to sleep later over how guilty he felt.

“We will spend our last three days here together, and I will show you whatever sights you want to see in Germany. After that, you will leave and be out of my life forever. I hate to let you go, especially as I know that I will never see you again. Yet you are destined for success, just like a shining star. I can see that, but I…I am washed up, Robert. And I will not stand in your way, nor will I cause a problem for you by being present in your life in any capacity. You do not need that sort of negativity from your family or friends, and I will not be the one to create such a rift.”

Klink tightened his grip on the slightly quivering younger man, as if committing this moment in time to memory. “You will return to the United States a war hero, and I will stay here, helping to pick the pieces of my country. I have been doing that this entire time with my own life, so it will be nothing new for me.”

The German general could feel his eyes burn with unshed tears, tears that he forced away as he willed himself to stay strong for the American officer. “I shall make another call to your mother as well and tell her I was only joking about everything before. It is not the best damage control, but it will help somewhat. I can lie and say I was only one of the guards here, and that the real _Kommandant_ was…was a horrendous Nazi or some such thing like that. Whatever you want me to say or do to make things right for you, I will do it. I, I…”

Klink trailed off momentarily, trying to think how best to phrase what he needed to say. “Above all, it was my utmost honor to know such an incredible person as yourself, Robert Hogan. Even if it was only for a brief period of time, I will never forget you. And once again, I am very sorry for everything that I have done to you.”

Having finished his emotional mini-speech, Klink went to carefully guide his former senior POW officer off of his lap for the first and last time. As he began to shift his weight to move both of them, he heard a low but firm, “Yes…and no.” That was it, just the three words.

“Yes…and no,” the same voice with an American accent repeated, and the older man realized it was Hogan! That assumption was confirmed as he felt Hogan gently touch his chest with one hand.

_I obviously fell asleep at some point,_ he decided. _I am not sure how, but I must have. It is the only explanation for why Robert has not leapt up and begun cursing me out yet._ Klink’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out when he’d fallen asleep. More importantly, where was his troublemaker? Was he okay?

“Yes…and no?” Klink repeated, switching back to English as he tried to regain his footing in the baffling conversation.

“You heard me. I said yes…and no,” Hogan repeated for a third time, blinking as he looked up at Klink with a weak but contented smile. He’d understood everything Klink had said to him in German as he was regaining his composure, but he needed to set the record straight right now. He hadn’t called in some of the numerous favors owed to him, only to have it all ruined by one hell of a misunderstanding.

Hogan wasn’t the sort of man to give up easily, and he was having a lot of fun delivering one surprise after another. The astonished looks he received after each one were both comical and gratifying to his ego, because he liked nothing better than doing something nice for someone else.

_Besides,_ he reluctantly admitted to himself, _I kind of like it right where I am at the moment. Klink’s heartbeat is oddly relaxing, even if it was beating a mile a minute earlier._

Nodding, the German general said, “I did hear you, but…what are you saying ‘yes and no’ to, exactly? I am afraid you lost me at some point, Robert.”

Rationalizing if this really was a dream that he should enjoy it before reality set in again, Klink made himself comfortable on the bed again, still holding the younger general in his arms in a firm grip. His slender hand kept stroking Hogan’s soft hair, seemingly on autopilot as he waited for him to clarify his cryptic words. He also decided that his favorite part of Hogan’s hair to mess with was the piece that always lay against his forehead as he toyed with it.

**_ A long talk… _ **

Having fully gotten himself under control and deciding he should get the most serious topic out of the way first, Hogan told him. “First of all, _Kommandant_ , you **will** be laying hands on me again –”

“ _Nein!_ I do not think so, Robert!” interrupted Klink, horrified at the very idea. “I –”

“Shut up and let me finish!” ordered Hogan, his tone of voice like steel as he fought to convey what was on his mind.

Klink snapped his mouth shut in surprise. He’d never, **ever** heard his former senior POW officer use such a serious tone before. The closest thing to it had been the few times Hogan had told his men to pipe down during roll call. So this was something new. It was the voice of an officer used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question.

“Fine,” he said grumpily, focusing on rubbing Hogan’s back to calm himself down.

“Thank you,” Hogan replied. “Now, as I was saying before…we started this over a year ago, and I intend on seeing it through to the end. I’m not someone who just throws in the towel when the going gets rough, you know,” he added as an afterthought. “None of this is needless. It’s very helpful to me, and I’m also gonna guess that it is to you as well, sir.”

The question was asked before his mouth could run it past his brain first. “How could you having your bottom worn out possibly be helpful to either one of us?” Klink demanded. “You are insane. Do you enjoy pain? I cannot see why else you would willingly do anything like this!”

Hogan sighed as he gave the answer, his butt throbbing as a reminder of his words. “Because **of** the pain, sir.” Seeing the puzzled look appear on the German officer’s face, he elaborated.

“I don’t think you get it. I know I messed up, and I know it was on a gigantic level. But each of these three nights serves as both a punishment for my actions, which sometimes affected **your** life and career too, by the way. And it makes sure that my slate is wiped clean with you in the end as well.”

He tried not to think about the painful throbbing he felt as he continued. “Anyway, something big like that would have to have an equally big consequence. Or haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘the punishment fits the crime’?” he said reasonably.

“And no, I don’t enjoy pain. At least, I never did before. Lately, I’ve been questioning that myself,” the younger man admitted sheepishly. “I’ll let you know if I figure it out.”

“Why would you care if you wiped your slate clean with me, though? That is what I am not understanding,” asked Klink, ignoring the last bit of the American’s answer.

“And why were you asking me if **I** was okay? I should think that you would have had more important things on your mind at the time,” he said dryly.

“Because I feel guilty about everything, and it’s eating me up inside,” Hogan said simply, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to say. “Does all of this hurt a lot? You bet. Am I looking forward to the next two days of finishing this up? Hell no. But it means we’re square after everything is said and done, and that’s what matters. I know if I don’t nip this in the bud now, it’s just gonna make a bigger problem later on for both of us. I also know that resentment is a terrible thing.”

He did his best to get comfortable without moving his butt muscles, but it didn’t help much. “I was making sure you were okay too. I figured it can’t be easy on you hearing me scream, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“That is…very touching,” said Klink quietly. “And I appreciate it.” Just the level of selflessness that sort of action took – to be worried about somebody else being okay while you were being spanked, especially when the person you were worried about was the one spanking you – was enormous. Oh yeah, it was obvious now. He so did **not** deserve this thoughtful, caring American in his life…in any kind of way.

Letting out a resigned sigh and ignoring the curse word, Klink replied, “Well, that explains your slant. But you have not explained how it helps me. Or did you not hear the part where I told you I will never see you again after our three days are up?” He knew Hogan wasn’t deaf, even if he did have selective hearing at times!

Biting back a smile, Hogan continued his explanation. He’d heard Klink mess up the English term again, and he also knew he was starting to wear the tall German down. “First of all, the word is ‘angle’, not ‘slant’. And if you’re going to sit there and insist that don’t you feel a lot better doling out some ‘much-needed German discipline’ to your ‘insolent brat’, you’re in serious denial, sir.” Hogan said, rolling his eyes as he made air quotes with his fingers.

Klink growled, unable to truthfully deny anything that had just been said. “I will get it right one day, I am sure. Assuming I ever get the chance to talk to an American again,” he responded.

“Somehow I doubt Germany will be a popular tourist destination in the future. Which reminds me,” he added. “What would you like me to say when I call your mother again and inform her that nothing I said about you was true?”

“Nothing, because you’re not calling her. What’s done is done.” Making a face of false outrage, Hogan let his gaze meet Klink’s. His brown eyes locked with a pair of impossibly blue ones as he spoke.

“I think I might be offended, sir. **I** happen to be an American, you know. Or are you planning on ignoring me for the rest of my life?” He’d heard what the other officer’s intentions were, that was true. Yet he was doing something he was very skilled at, which was ignoring what he didn’t want to hear.

“The rest of your life? What are you going on about, Robert?” inquired Klink, beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that he was being played again. _For the love of God, I have clearly stated my intentions! How thick-headed can one man be?_ he pondered.

Hogan just rolled his eyes, simplifying what he’d thought had already been clear. “I’m not going anywhere without you, General. I’ve been plotting and planning everything almost constantly since London told us that ol’ scramble brains bit the dust. For the record, that was about four weeks ago, as we knew it before the rest of the world. As soon as I get that package I mentioned, the two of us have plenty of places to see.”

He let a mischievous smile play across his lips as he spoke. “And I should tell you that London and Palm Springs are only two of them.”

The smile faded as Hogan continued on. “Now, I want to make this very clear. If after all is said and done, you still never want to see me again, that’s fine. I won’t like it, but I can deal with that. But until then, you’re stuck with me. The Allied High Command owes me about a million favors, which is more than I can ever use in my entire life if I only use them on myself. So, I just called some of them in regarding you. You know, as a way to share the wealth. And I’m not going to let everything I’ve got so carefully planned go to waste!” his brat finished, have the nerve to sound indignant about it all.

“Robert, I do not wish to cause you any problems when you return home. Your family and friends will never accept that you have a German general in your life as someone that you care about! They will say you are mad, and you will be forced to choose between me or them. And I refuse to be something that causes a rift between you and anyone else,” Klink said triumphantly, figuring there was no way Hogan could argue that point.

But he’d figured wrong. “First of all, my friends and family are very tolerant people,” the younger man began.

“And anyone who doesn’t like who I talk to or associate with can fuck off and die. I don’t need that type of negativity around me anyhow. I don’t just let anyone into my inner circle…so if I do, it means they’re special to me in some way. And everyone that knows me is well aware of that. So there,” Hogan finished smugly.

Klink felt the familiar feeling of knowing he was going to lose the argument, but he took one more stab at it anyhow. “Language, Robert. And what could I **possibly** have that makes me ‘special’ enough to you to be in your inner circle?” he inquired, making air quotes with his slender fingers. While he had a hard time believing the words out of Hogan’s mouth, he could hear that they rang true.

“A lot of things, actually,” came the unexpected reply. “You’re incredibly perceptive when you want to be – like right now – you actually have a heart and a sense of compassion for others, you’re intelligent, and you’ve got a wicked sense of humor sometimes. Those are all things I like the people in said inner circle to have,” the American officer said confidently.

_Oh, for the love of…_ Klink knew when he was beat, especially as Hogan had made several valid points. But there were still some things he didn’t understand. “Fine,” he admitted. “You win. But I need to know…why?” he asked wearily.

“Why would you do all of this? Why go to so much trouble for me, your jailer? I do not understand what you could possibly gain from any of this.”

Hogan let out a deep sigh, trying to figure out how else to say what had already been said. He might exasperate Klink, but the older man exasperated him just as much in return! “Um…I like a challenge?” he offered, not wanting to admit the real reason out loud.

Shaking his head at the weak excuse, Klink replied, “May I at least get the truth? If I am to be included in your schemes, I think I deserve to know that much,” he pointed out.

“Fine, fine,” Hogan said, not happy about having to admit it anyway. “I like seeing you smile, okay?”

“Robert…” warned Klink, growing tired of the verbal run-around he was getting.

“What? It’s the truth!” the American general exclaimed, not telling a lie for once. “I do! Geez, you ask for the truth from me, but then you aren’t happy when you hear it. There’s no pleasing some people,” he huffed.

“I somehow doubt that,” Klink deadpanned, wanting desperately to believe those words but not letting himself do so. He let a half smile cross his face when his troublemaker huffed, reasoning that if he had to be annoyed, then Hogan could just be annoyed too.

“Well, that and the fact I like to surprise people. Part of it feeds my ego, not gonna lie about that. But I also like making my friends happy. And I haven’t much opportunity to do any of the above since I’ve been here,” his former senior POW officer pointed out, choosing to nuzzle Klink’s chest like a cat so his facial expression would be hidden.

“Not to mention that being legally locked up puts somewhat of a damper on doing much of anything as well.” Hogan noticed that the German officer’s heartbeat had finally slowed down and that his accent had returned to normal, so hopefully he was out of the woods now.

“I am your friend?” Klink asked carefully. “I remember you said that you cared about me before. And apparently I am someone would you like to be a part of your inner circle, but a friend…” He trailed off as he waited for the other shoe to drop, his hand still playing with Hogan’s hair absentmindedly.

Hogan arched his back, rolling his shoulders and making it easier for Klink to toy with his hair. Being 'cute' had helped him once before, so he figured it might work again. And he enjoyed it too, because Klink’s long fingers on his head felt like a scalp massage. “Duh,” he said, his tone one that clearly conveyed the question ‘isn’t it obvious?’ without actually saying it.

“I’m not sure how this sort of thing works in Germany, but in the United States you’d have to be a friend before you can be part of their inner circle. After all, a person’s inner circle is made up of only their closest friends. And I sure wouldn’t do any of this for an enemy. So, consider yourself promoted…again,” he finished with a look of great satisfaction.

Choosing to ignore the cheeky remark, the new German general just gave the American one a look of disbelief, unable to believe the sheer stubbornness and grit of the younger general. “Robert, you really are crazy. You are also a pain in my butt,” he added, proud of having remembered a popular American phrase.

“Wrong again, sir. You’re a pain in mine,” his brat said cheerfully as a particular spark of mischief – the one that only showed itself when he was teasing Klink – appeared in his eyes. “Quite literally, I should say. And I’m not crazy. I’ve just got ‘a mulish streak a mile wide’ as you like to put it,” Hogan added, making air quotes with his fingers.

Klink shook his head and replied, “I only hope you find the meekest woman on the planet to marry, I really do. If you do not, your children will be able to work on any farm and blend in…with the mules!” he said teasingly. “And I am **not** babysitting them either, especially if I am watching my nephews at the time. Heaven forbid your children should get together with them, because I believe the world as we know it would end,” he finished with a mock shudder.

“ **Now** who’s being over-dramatic?” questioned Hogan with an eyeroll. “And of course you wouldn’t be babysitting them. I’d like any kids of mine to grow up without being all stuffy and old-fashioned,” Hogan said playfully.

Narrowing his eyes in mock indignance, Klink asked, “Are you implying that I am stuffy and old-fashioned?”

“You said it, not me,” retorted Hogan with a teasing grin.

“ _Mmmmpf!_ You are one crazy general, Robert,” Klink said, his voice full of false exasperation.

“Pretty sure we’ve already established I’m nuts. Besides, it takes one to know one. So you must be a crazy general too,” Hogan replied as he started to laugh hysterically.

Raising his eyebrows, Klink inquired, “Do I want to know what brought on your sudden laughing fit?”

“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway,” Hogan managed to say between giggles.

“I just was remembering Newkirk and his impressions of you earlier. He really was spot on, though! Poor Schultz,” he added. “He was so confused!”

“ _Mmmmpf!_ Cease that laughing right now, you troublemaker!” Klink ordered, doing his best to sound irritated. Yet if he was judging by how his voice sounded, he was failing remarkably at it.

“Love to…if…you’d quit…doing that,” the American gasped out as he continued to laugh. “Do…the other one. You know…when…you shout my…name. And the…motion too!”

Letting out a deep sigh, Klink rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Why me?” he wondered out loud. “What did I ever do to anyone to deserve this?”

Unwilling to admit he loved seeing his wayward troublemaker so happy, he made a show of looking annoyed as he shook a closed fist in the air. **“HOOO-GAAAN!”**

Looking back down at the younger man again, he asked evenly, “Are you happy now, brat?”

“Very much so. _Danke!_ ” was the joyful reply as Hogan grinned from ear to ear.

“Hey, why’d you stop rubbing my back? I liked it,” he added, his expression suddenly switching to a pout. “And playing with my hair? It felt like a massage, you know.”

“You are not welcome,” the German officer said irritably, giving the American one a dirty look. “Are you trying to be cute right now, Robert?”

Shaking his head, Hogan responded truthfully, “Not before, I wasn’t. But since you asked me so nicely…” He trailed off before spontaneously putting on his 'cute' act. He hadn’t practiced the whole thing in its entity before, but he worked best off-the-cuff anyhow. _And Klink’s reaction to it is gonna be priceless,_ he thought gleefully.

First he widened his eyes, giving Klink the puppy dog look he’d practiced in the mirror at one point right before the war had ended. A full on pout accompanied it as he stuck out his lower lip and let it tremble slightly. Following that, he leaned into Klink and nuzzled him again, the same way a cat would. Finally, he snuggled into the older man and rolled his shoulders, letting out a low purr on impulse. “That’s the best I can do, sir. I hope you like it,” the younger general replied cheekily.

“I did not –” Klink cut himself off, watching the impromptu performance and feeling himself melt inwardly. _Damn Robert for being so cute…and for doing it on purpose!_ Klink thought.

“Oh, never mind. I think I might just follow wherever you lead from now on. Doing otherwise appears to be a losing battle,” he muttered.

“It’d probably be easier for you,” Hogan agreed in a helpful tone, which was anything but helpful.

The tall German took a deep breath, trying to make sure he didn’t do anything to send his former senior POW officer into hysterics again. “I am not amused by your antics, Robert.” Of course he actually **was** amused by them, but he couldn’t let Hogan know that.

“Aww, I’m sorry,” Hogan said. His tone of voice appeared to be sincere, at least until the next words were spoken.

“Guess I’m just not funny enough to make you laugh tonight. But don’t worry, I’ll figure out something eventually,” he added with a wink.

Klink let out another loud _“Mmmmpf!”_ before he could stop it. And as Hogan began laughing again, he instantly regretted it too. “Get up and put yourself to bed, you troublemaker! As you have made your position and views on everything quite clear, we have another long day tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay, okay. Man, some people have no sense of humor,” Hogan complained as he slowly got up, missing the close contact he’d had with the tall German as soon as he moved. And his sore butt was reminding him with every step that his atonement wasn’t all the way over yet. He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of it, but he was happy they’d cleared the air at least. “Are you at least going to tuck me in?” he inquired, only half kidding.

“And why, pray tell, would I do that?” questioned Klink in surprise as he also stood up. _What kind of question is that?_ he pondered.

“Because it’s hard to put a blanket over yourself when you’re lying on your stomach,” the younger man replied crossly. “I’ve managed to do it before, but it’s not an easy thing to do.”

Klink considered the logistics of that statement for a few seconds and sighed. “I suppose, as long as you do not display any more insolence tonight.” He handed his brat his bathrobe and pulled up his briefs for him, causing an “Ow!” to emerge from Hogan. “I apologize, but you needed to fix your clothing,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but it still hurts,” Hogan said. He moved to rub his behind, but his hands froze mid-motion. “Can I try to rub the sting out, sir? Or are you gonna swat me again if I do it?” he asked suspiciously, not wanting to go down that road a second time.

He also really wanted to make some sort of sassy remark like ‘only tonight?’ but resisted doing so. It would be interesting as well to see if the German general really tucked him in or not. If he did, cool. If not, well…he had plenty of sass left. That part was no problem, and it never had been one either.

Rolling his eyes, Klink said, “Since you asked me politely, yes. You may rub your bottom, young man.”

Klink could see the American fighting to keep from saying something undoubtedly snarky in reply, so he decided to be merciful. Instead of saying something else, he turned on his heel and silently headed back to the guest bedroom. After a minute or two of rubbing his rear end gingerly and putting on his bathrobe, Hogan followed behind him.

Once both officers were in the bedroom, the German officer stepped out of the way and let the young general lie down on the bed. After he’d made himself comfortable, Klink shook his head in resignation before carefully draping the blanket over Hogan.

Of course, he made sure to tuck the blanket in all the corners, the same way one would with a burrito. It wasn’t like he’d never tucked anyone in before, but he hadn’t expected to ever do it inside a prisoner of war camp! Sometimes, he really marveled at the strange turn his life had taken in the last three years.

“Would you like the door open or closed, Robert?” Klink asked him.

“Open, please. It’ll let the heat from the fire circulate better,” Hogan responded, his voice already sleepy. “Good night, _Kommandant,_ ” he added as he closed his eyes.

“ _Gute nacht_ , Robert,” the German murmured as he turned off the lamp and left the room. Hogan had given him a lot to think about, and some quiet time would be useful for that. If nothing else, he was grateful Hogan that had said what he had. After all, Klink didn’t relish the idea of never seeing or talking to the American again!


	11. Wrapping Up Loose Ends, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good thing is that the worst of the spankings is over for General Hogan. The bad news is there’s still more of them to come!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**   
>  _
> 
> _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Guten morgen_ = Good morning  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night  
>  _Nein_ = No

**_ Inside Klink's quarters, day two… _ **

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains as General Hogan, of the U.S. Army Air Force, opened his eyes and yawned. As he went to sit up though, he encountered an immediate issue in doing it. _Why can’t I sit up? Did I injure myself somehow last night?_ he thought. He went to lift his head, noticing as he did so that he was lying on his stomach. The realization of that made everything click into place. He also remembered everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours, including the end of the war and everything afterward.

 _I’m in Klink’s quarters!_ The moment the memory of why he was here and not in his barracks hit him, the throbbing pain in his butt made itself known as well. “Oww,” he groaned as what felt like a sharp spear jabbed his tender sit spots. “Fuck, Klink really wore my ass out last night,” Hogan muttered, glad that the older man wasn’t around to correct his language like he always did.

 _Where is he, anyway? What time is it?_ Hogan figured the best way to find out was to check his watch, so he glanced at it and grimaced. “Geez, it’s already 1007 hours? (10:07am) I missed breakfast!” the American exclaimed to himself. He’d been an early riser out of necessity for the past three years, which was due to the unholy early hour of the first roll call each day. Regrettably, that also meant he didn’t get the luxury of sleeping in.

Typically, unless they had a mission Hogan put himself to bed by 2000 hours (8:00 pm) each night, making sure he could wake up at 0400 hours (4:00am) in the morning. He’d only altered his schedule twice in the last three years. The first time had been when he’d been sucked into this new arrangement. The second time when he’d had to make an appearance here at 1900 hours (7:00pm) to have his tail warmed up each night by Klink.

Since his punishments exhausted him each time, he’d been going to bed right after they ended instead of staying up until 2000 hours. Overall, life in Stalag 13 wasn’t as bad as any of the other places he could’ve wound up, but being rousted out of a warm bed that early sucked! _Well, semi-warm anyway,_ Hogan mentally amended.

As he went to move his arms so he could push himself upwards, he stopped himself as he wondered how he was going to sit down to get dressed after he finally got up. His butt was still tender, after all, and sitting down wouldn’t be pleasant. The stray thought reminded Hogan that it would be even more tender tonight, which in turn made him want to burrow back under the covers and pretend that he was still asleep.

But now that he was awake, his stomach was demanding some food. Noticing that he was still securely wrapped up like a burrito under the covers as well made Hogan smile, remembering how he’d been tucked in last night.

It’d been so hard to keep his smart-aleck comments to himself for a change in order to accomplish that, but he’d done it. Reluctantly, he tossed the covers off of himself and resolved to get out of the bed. Hogan inched over the mattress on his stomach until he reached the edge of the bed. Putting one foot onto the floor, he swung his body sideways until both feet were touching the ground and pushed himself upright. As he steadied himself, the muscles being used in his legs caused his behind to protest even more, causing a small “Ow” to slip out.

 _Now to get dressed,_ he thought. It wasn’t overly chilly this time of year, especially as it was late May. But at the same time, fifty degrees was still winter weather in the United States. And so, he was somewhat cold. Hogan pulled on his bathrobe, unwilling to be caught in his underwear and shivering if Klink should walk into the room. A monocle-wearing mother hen was something he didn’t need right now. Or ever, come to think of it. He also decided to make the bed, since he didn’t want to give Klink any reason to bitch at him.

After searching through what few civilian clothes he owned, Hogan finally shrugged off his bathrobe and tossed it on the bed to fold later on. Then he pulled on a dark blue t-shirt and a pair of pale blue jeans that were faded from age. While his brown or tan shirt would have probably looked a little better with them, he was sick of these colors.

Hogan had been stuck wearing his uniform ever since he’d been shot down, so being able to openly wear something different was nice for once. Generally when he went out on missions, he was dressed in all black to blend in with the darkness…which meant that he was sick of that color too! However, it was either all black or all white when it came to footwear, and white shoes got dirty far too easily.

After pulling a fleece lined, white hooded sweatshirt with no zipper and one large pocket in the middle over his head, Hogan was almost ready to face the day. The sweatshirt was something he’d been sent a few months ago from home by his dad, claiming it was the newest thing in the U.S.

Now he just had to put on his socks and shoes. _But how am I supposed to do that without sitting down?_ he thought. It seemed as if the first challenge of the day had made itself known, but it wasn’t a problem. He could do this.

Hogan grabbed a pair of white socks and some all black sneakers before pausing to look at the bed. After some consideration about how to accomplish his goal, he placed one hand on it to steady himself. Then he stood on one foot and pulled on his sock before setting it down and repeating the motion with the other foot.

After repeating the motions to put on his shoes with some difficulty, he bent down to tie the laces, wincing at the way the movement pulled his buttcheeks taut.

When he was standing upright once more, he carefully folded his bathrobe and placed it on the dresser. Walking toward the bedroom door, the American general became aware of low music playing that he hadn’t noticed before. _Is that…is that Frank Sinatra?_ he mentally questioned, feeling sure that it wasn’t. The German general’s tastes tended to lean more toward classical music, and Sinatra was on the opposite end of that spectrum.

“What reality did I stumble into?” Hogan muttered under his breath as he entered the living room. “ _Kommandant?_ You here?” he called out.

“Where else would I be, Hogan?” Klink called out from where the kitchen table was. “ _Guten morgen._ ”

“Good morn –” Hogan cut himself off, staring at Klink in shock. “What are you wearing?”

Frowning, Klink replied in a puzzled tone. “Why? Is this sort of American clothing not meant to be worn together? I thought I had picked the appropriate type of pieces, but…” He trailed off and shrugged as he sipped a cup of tea.

“Should I change? I have not worn anything but a military uniform for a very long time, so I was not entirely certain if this was correct,” he added.

“No. I mean yeah, you’re fine. You did okay, that’s not what surprised me.” Hogan shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes taking in the strange sight in front of him. “It’s just…where did you find any of that?” he inquired curiously. “I’ve never seen you wear anything like it, that’s all.”

If Hogan hadn’t heard the other officer’s voice **and** saw Klink with his own eyes at the same time, he would have called anyone who tried to tell him about this a filthy liar. The tall German wore a light blue, long sleeved dress shirt that was buttoned all the way up except for the top two buttons near his throat. Those he had left undone, along with rolling the sleeves up to his elbows so that his lower arms were left uncovered.

Klink had also chosen to wear dark gray dress slacks and black dress shoes. The shoes looked like the ones Hogan wore with his uniform, only they were black instead of brown. On the back of his chair hung a very familiar white trench coat as well, and the older man wore no tie with his ensemble.

All in all, he looked pretty nice. The color of the shirt also made Klink’s blue eyes appear to glow, and the realization of that caused Hogan to focus on something else quickly. “Where’d you get that trench coat?” he asked curiously. “I have one just like it, so I was wondering where you got yours from.”

A mischievous smile made Klink’s lips curl upward, even as he looked very smug. “I am sure that you do, Hogan. And I am also sure that this one is most likely yours, seeing as it was down in the tunnels. Along with that record,” he added, nodding to the record player where Frank Sinatra still played softly in the background.

“Huh? You went exploring down there alone?” asked the younger general, concern showing itself in his voice. “What the fu – heck would you do that for? Are you crazy?” He managed to change his chosen curse word just in time, remembering that he always got called out on it anyway.

Raising his eyebrows, Klink elected not to mention the hasty fix. “Not the last time I checked, and why do you sound so concerned?” he inquired.

“I have an excellent sense of direction,” he added. _The morning is off to an interesting start,_ he decided with a smile.

“Eh, maybe. You **were** a pretty good navigator when we went to London before,” Hogan allowed, still not happy about the idea. “But there’s a thing called cave-ins, you know. Do you know how many tunnel entrances there are inside of Stalag 13? It’d take ages to figure out which one you went through, and that’s assuming you didn’t close the entrance behind you!” he added, starting to become irritated at the thought of what could have happened.

“And how would I dig you out alone if that’d been the case? Whenever we had a cave in before, it took ten guys working in shifts for about a week or better to clear it. You’d be dead from lack of oxygen,” he finished, oddly depressed at that thought. “Just…just let me know or something the next time you want to explore, okay?” Hogan said.

His brat sounded truly worried for once, and the older man wondered how it felt to know someone you cared about – or at least liked – had gone off and done something you thought was idiotic. Clearly, a taste of his own medicine was just what the doctor had ordered! “Why Hogan, you sound as if you actually care,” the German officer said slowly, trying to gage where this conversation was headed.

“Well, yeah! Geez, you don’t go through everything we’ve gone through together and not **care** ,” Hogan said indignantly. “Now I’m gonna worry you might do something dumb like that again,” he said, crossing his arms and huffing. _Man, is it just me or is Klink being extra thick-headed today?_

“And now you know how that feels, yes?” Klink asked in an amused tone. “You look very nice, by the way. Sit down, sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair next to him. “Or are you planning on standing there all day?”

“Hmmph,” Hogan grumbled in response, unwilling to admit Klink had a point.

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I think I’ll stand. That chair would be way too hard to sit on right now.” As if in agreement with that statement, another stab of pain pulsed in his sit spots.

“Suit yourself,” Klink replied as he shrugged causally.

“But I think you should make sure that this chair,” he tapped the one next to him, “is still as hard as you remember.”

Then he rose and headed for the kitchen. “I will return in a moment.”

“Ooookay,” the American said in a puzzled tone as he uncrossed his arms and walked over to the aforementioned spot. As he grabbed the chair so that he could move it away from the table, a flash of beige caught his eye.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he took a closer look to see what it was. _You’ve got to be kidding me…really? Wow,_ he thought.

On the seat of the chair were several beige pillows, and Hogan recognized them as being some of the ones from the couch. They’d obviously been placed there ahead of time to make it more comfortable for him to sit down, and the gesture was touching. Figuring he’d offend the German general if he refused, Hogan managed to sit down and make himself reasonably comfortable before Klink returned.

“Ah. I see you decided to have a seat after all,” he said, setting down a cup of tea in front of the American.

“By the way, what are those?” he asked in a confused voice, pointing to Hogan’s sweatshirt and jeans respectively.

“Yeah, it wasn’t as hard as I’d remembered. It’s the strangest thing,” murmured Hogan, tossing Klink a grateful glance as he accepted the tea.

 _“Danke,”_ he added, making sure the tall German knew that the ‘thank you’ was for the pillows on the chair too.

“Oh, these? This is a hooded sweatshirt, or a hoodie. My dad sent it to me a few months ago. He said it’s the newest fad in the United States. And these are jeans. They’re an old pair, but they’re pretty durable,” Hogan stated.

“You are welcome,” came the reply. Klink was still staring at his troublemaker’s jeans curiously, trying to decide if the fabric was as rough as it looked.

“May I?” he requested, motioning to Hogan’s leg.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sure, go ahead,” Hogan replied. “I take it you’ve never seen jeans before?”

“No. They look very uncomfortable, if I am being honest,” Klink admitted, reaching out with a slender hand to touch the American’s leg. But the denim fabric felt rough under his fingertips, so he quickly pulled it away. “Very strange indeed.”

“Don’t worry, they’re an acquired taste. Not everybody likes them,” Hogan said as he sipped his tea.

“You look really nice too. It’s weird seeing you not in a uniform, but I like it,” the former senior POW officer added. “You don’t look as…intimidating.”

 _Yeah, that’s a good word for it,_ his mind said. “So not that I’m complaining, but what’s with the music? I thought you liked the more classical stuff, like Wagner.”

“I do. But I found it in the tunnels and thought I would see what all the fuss was about,” the older man said evenly. “Every time I closed the recreation hall and none of you could enjoy your records, every last one of you had – how do you say it in English? – a pig?” Was that right? It sounded right to him.

“You mean a cow, General,” the younger man said with a chuckle. “And yeah, we all love our Frank Sinatra and Tommy Dorsey records. You have no idea how mad you made everyone each time you did that.”

“I can only imagine,” Klink said with a nod. “The music is not all that bad, but I think that I still prefer classical music more.”

“You would,” the American officer replied with a sigh. “So how come you didn’t wake me up? I liked sleeping in and all, but now I’ve missed breakfast. And I’m hungry,” he added sulkily.

“First of all, you will wipe that sulky look off of your face, little brat,” Klink announced with amusement. “Or else I will roust you tomorrow at 04:00 hours again, simply because I can. Second, I thought it better to let you rest after everything that occurred yesterday. You have a long night ahead of you tonight **and** tomorrow, you know.”

“I’m not sulking, and I’m not a brat,” pouted Hogan as he crossed his arms. “And I’ll pass on that. But thanks for the offer.”

“I beg to differ, Hogan,” chuckled Klink good-naturedly. “We appear to have a slight conundrum as well.”

With a sigh, Hogan shifted his weight slightly and let out a yelp. “Ow! So what’s the problem?” he asked, shooting the German officer a glare when he chuckled again. “It’s not funny!”

“Perhaps not to you, but I find your antics this morning quite amusing,” deadpanned Klink. “The issue is this: do we eat first and then go see whatever you wish to see? Or do we just go sight-seeing and hope we can find food along the way?”

Blinking, Hogan thought about that, his earlier sulkiness forgotten. “What would we eat? I don’t want any sauerkraut, no offense. And I don’t know if either the Hofbrau or the Hauserhof is still open for business, so I don’t know where we could go either,” he said thoughtfully, ignoring the lewd ideas his mind conjured up about where the two of them could go. “And we’ve got no money anyways.”

“Yes, well…that is why I said it was a conundrum,” Klink replied.

He made a disgusted face and added, “I do not want any sauerkraut for breakfast either, as that is a lunch or dinner item. As to your other statement, I still have some of the camp’s budget for this month left. We could use that.”

“True.” Hogan scratched his head in thought. “I guess there’s only one deciding factor, then.”

“Which is what?” Klink asked warily.

“Can you cook at all?” the American officer asked curiously. “If not, we’re kind of forced to go out and get food.”

“Actually, yes. Not as good as your French corporal, but I can make some things. My mother insisted that I hand her different ingredients in the kitchen to make myself useful when she prepared meals, as well as do little things like slicing onions and peeling potatoes. It saved her a great deal of time, and in turn I learned much while watching her,” Klink said, enjoying the stunned look on his former senior POW officer’s face. “What about you, Hogan?”

“Same here,” Hogan responded, enjoying seeing the exact same look mirrored on the German’s face.

“What? I had to help my mom a lot of the time. My dad was always at work, and she was feeding all of us by herself. She always said that I got under her feet and ‘made a nuisance of myself’ otherwise. Besides that, LeBeau’s taught me a few recipes. Let’s just hope I remember them correctly, or…” The younger officer trailed off, wondering how to say deliver that sort of blow.

“Or what?” Klink asked wearily, not liking where this discussion was going.

Then Hogan grinned and said, “Or else our meals are about to get very interesting.”

“Hooo-gaaan!” Klink snapped in exasperation before seeing the laughter that danced in his troublemaker’s eyes. “I do not find you funny at the moment.”

“Only at the moment?” teased the American as he slowly stood up. “So you think I’m funny at any other time?”

“No!” the German general replied, only half serious as a half-smile appeared. “I will tame that insolent attitude yet, do not worry.”

That innocent sentence caused the younger man cracked up laughing, even as he moved himself out of Klink’s grabbing range. “You’re hilarious, you know that?” he said between giggles.

Klink’s brow furrowed as he attempted to unscramble that statement. “Why?”

“I was just remembering when Newkirk showed up, dressed as a member of the Gestapo and driving that Tiger tank,” Hogan managed to get out. “And he said he was here with it because you ordered the tank to control your rebellious prisoners, so you just looked up at him like this.”

Hogan imitated the look he’d seen on Klink’s face that night. “And then you said, _“*There are no rebellious prisoners here. *They’re tame…I’ve tamed them.”_ That was classic!” he finished, still giggling like a little boy while turning and darting off as fast as his sore butt would allow.

“I will show **you** classic, young man!” Klink said as he stood up too. For someone whose bottom was so sore, Hogan moved rather quickly. “Come back here, Robert!” he growled playfully as he gave chase.

“No!” came the faint reply as Hogan headed back toward the guest bedroom, figuring he could put the bed between him and Klink. Even so, he had to smile at successfully baiting the older man yet again. Really, it was almost too easy sometimes.

Klink grinned like a shark as he followed, allowing just enough distance between them to create a false sense of security. Finally, he made it to the guest bedroom as well. Then he looked around him, noticing with satisfaction where the younger general was. He’d put himself in the corner, his back to the wall. A window was on one side of him, while the bed was on his other side.

 _A good defensive position,_ the older man thought approvingly, _providing Hogan had the capability to throw himself onto the bed and roll to the other side if need be. Right now, he happens to be stuck right where he is._ “Ah, my prey has fallen into the trap. How convenient for me,” he said playfully as he stalked slowly towards his brat.

After hearing the teasing tone, Hogan wasn’t worried about landing himself in more hot water right now. That being said, he replied snarkily, “You’re just mad because you didn’t think of it first, _Kommandant_ …admit it.”

“I admit nothing of the sort,” scoffed Klink as he finally reached the American. “Give up and concede defeat before I drag you into the living room by your ear!”

He sighed and admitted with a crestfallen look, “I have actually always wanted to do that. It seems like fun somehow.”

“Only you would think that sounded like fun,” Hogan said with an eye roll. He didn’t see how it could possibly be fun. But if it made Klink happy, then he’d play along. _Why not, right?_

“Well, go for it. That is, if you’re sure your hand won’t crumble to dust first, Methuselah,” Hogan challenged, wanting to see what Klink would do. Their games might be a little weird to anyone else, but both officers enjoyed them and that was all that counted.

“Methuselah?” asked Klink as his eyes narrowed. “Oh, you are going to get it now, young man!” His slender hand snaked out and grabbed Hogan’s ear, making sure he had a good grip on it but not enough to hurt him.

“Come on, little one,” he said as he marched them toward the sofa. His tone was still playful to make sure his troublemaker knew he was only joking.

“Hey, let go!” said Hogan in a voice that was anything but serious. “Don’t make me do my cute act again!”

“Make all the threats you like, for it will not change what I have in mind,” responded Klink as they moved. He also made sure that he would not trip either of them up as they reached the sofa.

“Which is what?” Hogan asked as they stopped.

“Sit down and find out,” Klink said with an impish wink.

A little confused about that statement but willing to play along, Hogan carefully took a seat. “What, you’re gonna stare at me? Seems more like a reward if you ask me,” he said with a smirk. “I know, I’m extremely good looking. Everyone tells me so.”

Rolling his eyes at that vain statement, Klink said. “No, I am not going to stare at you. By the way, your own reflection does not count as ‘everyone’.” He sat on the sofa and locked his arms behind his head.

Then he flopped backward over Hogan’s lap the same way the American had done to him so many months ago. “Hmmm…I do believe you are as comfortable as you claim I am, Hogan,” Klink said with a smirk. “I see what you meant before.”

“Very funny, sir,” Hogan said with an eyeroll and a smile. “Now get up so we can eat. I’m hungry, and it’s long past time for breakfast.”

“That is true, and so am I. But I rather like it here,” Klink replied, flexing his fingers and stretching the way Hogan had done so many months before. “Is that a problem for you? You did the same thing to me, you know. More than once, I should add.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve made your point, now come **on**!” Hogan said, giving him a barely-there push.

“I suppose I will grant your request, just this once,” Klink said as he got to his feet. “But do not get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Hogan said agreeably as he led the way towards the kitchen. He only hoped they had something to work with in the food department, or it was going to be a long three days.

**_ Prelude to round two… _ **

Breakfast had been good, once both officers had gotten around to actually cooking and eating it. First they’d had to take inventory of their supplies and decided what they wanted to eat. After a short but heated discussion, they’d come to an agreement. Klink could pick what was for breakfast and dinner if Hogan got to choose what was for lunch. The next day it would be reversed, which was good since there wasn’t enough food to last more than a few days.

If everyone had still been here, the sawdust would have been a welcome filler…and while the older man indeed still had money from the camp budget, a quick call to London via radio informed them that the German currency had lost all value at this point. Therefore it didn’t do them any good, and it also killed any plans they had of going out. Hogan was just glad he’d thought to radio them and ask that before they left!

For breakfast, Klink had made them something called ‘German eggs’. It was basically an omelet with cheese…but it also had cottage cheese, cream cheese, baking powder, butter and onions in it, along with other seasonings. While the very idea sounded like something a broke college student would come up with, Hogan had promised Klink he’d keep an open mind when he tried it. And to the American’s surprise, he really liked it. After saying as much to the older man, Klink had beamed with pride and looked quite smug for the next half hour.

The two generals had debated going out just to sightsee anyway, but they’d ultimately decided against it after Hogan expressed his desire to _“be able to walk around without a sore butt.”_ Instead, they had spent the day doing various things like dancing to different records and playing chess.

Klink hadn’t been lying when he’d said he could dance well. He showed the former senior POW officer some basic waltz dance steps, seeming to glide across the floor when he moved. Now Hogan fully understood why Major Hochstetter had been so mad at Klink that night.

Granted, he was always mad about something at any given time. But in this case, the younger man was on the same wavelength with the irate Gestapo officer. That right there was something he’d never thought could happen!

It was funny to watch Klink attempt to do the jitterbug, but he picked it up easily enough. Likewise, Hogan was terrible at ballroom dancing, especially as they took turns jumping away from one other and turning red in the face. But the American figured he just needed a female partner for him to get it down pat, so that was okay with him.

For lunch, Hogan had made them tacos. The hamburger meat hadn’t been too hard to scramble, but he’d almost burned the shells. It was a lot harder to cook them perfectly in the oil than his mother had made it seem, but he’d done it.

The best part was the look on Klink’s face when he’d seen them, as he’d gone to pick one up only to have everything fall out the other side! After getting a good laugh out of it, Hogan had shown Klink how to pick it up and eat it. It had been his turn to beam with pride after the German officer admitted that it tasted good, and that he wouldn’t mind having it again someday.

It was Klink’s turn to cook for them again at dinner, and they had potatoes that needed to be used as well. So he made something called ‘ _Kartoffel Kloesse’_ , or ‘potato dumplings’ as it was called when it was translated into English. Seeing as the recipe included eggs, flour and breadcrumbs, Hogan had been a little wary of it. It had sounded distasteful to him all the way around. Still, he’d once again found himself enjoying the German dish, so he’d told Klink that.

Between the two of them, both Klink and Hogan really wished that LeBeau had stayed behind. While Hogan would never ask that of the Frenchman, he had to admit Louis’ proficiency in the kitchen had been the major part of keeping them all alive and healthy. And his unique ability to make a three course meal out of nothing came in quite handy as well.

In between meals, the two generals had discussed so many things that the former senior POW officer had information overload. Surprisingly, they shared many of the same opinions and were a lot alike. Yet on the things they disagreed on, they were polar opposites. In the end, they had come to an unspoken agreement to change the subject whenever something like that came up. But now the time had arrived that Hogan was not looking forward to.

“I suppose all good things must come to an end, Hogan,” Klink said that evening as he stretched. “It is getting rather late, and there is still the matter of your spanking for tonight that we must attend to.”

“I know,” Hogan complained, even as his stomach began doing backflips in dreaded anticipation again. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to it though.” His butt still hurt quite a bit, though when he’d looked in the mirror it had faded to a light pink. Normally, the American officer was thankful for his rapid healing abilities. This was not one of those times, because his rear end felt as if he should be bruised all over and it wasn’t.

Honestly, he kind of felt cheated about that. Not that he **wanted** to be bruised, mind you. But if his butt was going to hurt this much, the appearance of it should at least reflect that pain! It was equivalent to having a massive gunshot wound with all the pain included, but not so much as a scar to show for it when it healed. It was just the principle of the thing.

“Where are we doing this, sir?” Hogan asked, his mind and mood slipping into a familiar pattern of ultra-courteous yet nervous. Any other time he wasn’t either one, but that familiar dreaded anticipation kickstarted both feelings. Not to mention that it was a real bitch too.

“My room again, Hogan,” the tall German said as he rose. “Up you get.”

“Okay,” sighed the American as he stood up as well. While normally he would move slow and drag his feet, this time he chose to move as quickly as he could. He just wanted this part over and done with, which would mean that he was one step closer to feeling better again.

It scared him how much he’d come to depend on Klink both providing that emotional release and then putting him back together so often, but that was just how things appeared to be going for now.

Klink watched his troublemaker all but sprint toward the bedroom and followed him, shaking his head. _For someone who is unhappy about all of this, he is practically begging for it to start! Americans are very odd,_ he mused.

“How do you want to do this sir?” Hogan inquired, his voice low. “The usual way?”

“Yes,” replied the German general as he picked up the wooden hairbrush and sat down on the bed. Hogan had made the strangest request earlier regarding all of this that he’d heard yet. While Klink could appreciate the honesty and the amount of nerves it took to voice those thoughts, it wouldn’t spare his brat’s bottom a single swat. Hogan had informed him that while he healed rapidly, he was still very tender back there.

Yet that hadn’t even been the strangest part. No, that award went to the jerky, stammered request to continue the spanking until either his butt was a dark pink again or he cried. _“Whichever comes second,”_ Hogan had stated.

His reasoning had been that if he was going _“to be standing up for the rest of my life”_ , he at least wanted something to show for it! After an eyeroll and a sigh, the older man had reluctantly agreed.

They’d talked about many things today, and one of them was that being treated like a little kid during these punishments was incredibly cathartic for his troublemaker. _“Embarrassing, but really cathartic,”_ Hogan had said, looking as if it galled him to admit such a thing.

Now Klink was jerked out of his thoughts as all movement in the room ceased. Remembering all of this, he sighed and thought, _Showtime. This must be the oddest act I have ever had to put on. But if it helps Hogan, then so be it._

Then he looked over at his troublemaker. The younger officer was standing very close to the wall and staring at it intently, as if doing so would magically open a portal to somewhere else. “Come here, young man,” he said sternly, giving him a hard glare and crooking a slender finger at Hogan when he turned around.

Having removed his jeans already and folded them, he’d placed them on the dresser and stood off to one side. As he did everything but put his nose in the corner, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

Hogan knew he’d asked earlier to be treated like a kid all the way during these spankings, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. If nothing else, it seemed to help relieve the guilt more when he was embarrassed, and there was certainly plenty of that to go around.

Klink probably thought he was certifiably insane by now, but he’d agreed to play his part anyhow. Hogan supposed there were just some things that couldn’t be explained as he used the time to reflect on how he’d gotten into this mess. But he’d just about figured why he loved to push boundaries all the time when he heard the quiet but stern summons, causing the discovery to slip away.

_Damn, he’s good,_ thought Hogan approvingly as he slowly turned around.

Then he shuffled over to his self-appointed disciplinarian and stood there, looking at his feet. “Yes, sir?” he asked quietly, keeping to his role and letting himself experience everything that was happening fully.

“Do you know why you are here? Why you are about to receive a bare bottom spanking with the hairbrush from me?” Klink asked, keeping to his role as well as he used the embarrassing terms.

He’d promised Hogan last night that he wouldn’t lecture him for the next three days of punishment, but this part wasn’t **his** idea. That meant that the weight of the promise was off of his shoulders. He would lecture as needed, since that’s what his brat apparently wanted. _And I still find it extremely strange,_ Klink thought.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Hogan nodded and replied, “Yes, sir.”

If he hadn’t known the older man was only doing this part at his request, he would be truly scared of the other general. _Maybe Klink should’ve become an actor after all, because he’s really good at it!_

“Then stop looking at your feet and tell me.” The words were an order, and the German general let some of the real anger he felt seep into his voice as he spoke.

 _It is his own fault for being so foolish! There are other ways to get things done without taking such a risk,_ Klink thought. “Why are you about to be one very sorry, well-spanked little boy?”

Wincing at the painful promise in those words, Hogan let his gaze travel upward until he locked eyes with Klink. The blue eyes he saw weren’t the same ones that normally only looked exasperated with him, or even worried at times. They were showing real anger, and Hogan gulped as it dawned on him that maybe this was more than just an act. Then he began to whisper, stammering as he answered. “B-Because I –”

“Speak up, young man. I cannot hear you,” Klink said sharply.

The American general felt himself blushing beet red as he tried again. “Because I…I r-risked other p-people’s lives needlessly, s-sir.”

“And what else? Is that all?” Klink was warming to his role now, even if he thought it was completely unnecessary.

“No, sir. I-I mean, that’s n-not all,” Hogan stammered out, feeling the blush intensify.

“Well? Why else are you here, then? I suggest you tell me quickly, or you will earn yourself extra time over my lap!” Klink snapped.

His accent was getting thicker with each word he spoke, a sure indicator of the strong emotion he was feeling. “Unless that is what you **want,** ” he added in a low, dangerous tone.

“No, please! I-I’m here because I put m-my own life at risk t-too,” Hogan replied, finally figuring out that he really was in for a world of hurt soon.

Noticing the warning look he was getting, he added hastily, “A lot of t-times! A-and I was r-reckless about it all the time t-too,” he finished weakly. His stomach was in knots again by now as he shifted from foot to foot anxiously.

“I see,” Klink said as he considered that answer. “Well, you do not need to worry about feeling guilty for those things anymore. I will be sure to make you a **very sore** little boy, because I will wear your bottom out once you are over my lap. You will be crying your eyes out when I am done, and you will be sorry that those type of ideas ever occurred to you. And you will never, **ever** do such foolish things again! Do you understand me?” he demanded to know, his voice still icy.

He had enunciated certain words on purpose, almost slipping out of his role a few times as he gazed at his brat. It wasn’t in him to be cruel, but it seemed to be having a profound effect at any rate _._

“Y-yes, sir,” Hogan whispered, already wishing those types of ideas had never occurred to him. His rear end was never going to speak to him again after these three days were up. He just knew it.

Klink nodded, and the short movement felt like the final sentencing in a courtroom. “Then let us begin your punishment.”

Deciding to make the experience a memorable one for his troublemaker, Klink took his time lowering Hogan’s briefs, letting the cool air caress the skin on his behind. All the while, he kept reminding himself that Hogan would appreciate his attention to detail later on.

Hogan begin to tremble at the humiliating sensation, knowing this was no longer merely an act. Then he let himself be yanked over Klink’s lap, feeling like jelly as he was positioned so that his butt was easily spankable. He could feel his legs being pinned from the start and grimaced, knowing all too well the effect it had on any swats he received.

After he was securely positioned, Klink let the back of the wooden hairbrush caress Hogan’s buttcheeks gently. He could feel the American flinch each time he did so, and the older man only hoped his brat would acknowledge his efforts when they next spoke.

**_ Round two: the hairbrush… _ **

The feel of the smooth wood gliding over his skin only made him tense up more than he already was, so Hogan wasn’t fully prepared for the first several blows. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW! OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!” he shrieked. The entire lead up to this had him wound up tighter than a spring, and the swats felt as if a hot poker was branding him repeatedly since his butt was already sore. Now he was doubly glad he’d already had the belt.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWIE, OWWIE, OWWWWW!” he howled, knowing that he wouldn’t last too long tonight. Not with the new pain being created added to the old one, at any rate.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWIE! It hurts, it hurts!” the American cried out in agony as the fire quickly began to build in his bottom again.

“I know,” Klink said grimly as he continued to spank his troublemaker. “And according to what you asked of me earlier, it has only just begun to hurt for you.” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

The blows began to alternate in a random pattern between left and right, and between sit spots and buttcheeks. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Klink was trying to get this over with as quickly as possible, which was why he had elected to do that.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWWIE! OWWWW, OWWWWIE, OWWWW!” Hogan screamed out as he tried to kick his feet to no avail. “Just stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWW, OWWWWW! I’ll be good, I swear!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWWW! Please, I promise!” **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Holy shit, was he ready to break already? That had to be a new record. Of that, he was sure.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK!** “Sir, I’m sorry! OWWWW!” His behind had quickly been relit on fire from the harsh wooden implement, and he didn’t even want to think about how tomorrow would feel right now. He was too busy dealing with today.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Stop! Please, **stop!** I’m **sorry!** Please, sir!”

“So am I,” said the German, his accent so thick it was hardly understandable. “So am I, but I cannot. You would not be happy with me later on if I did.” 

He could see the skin of the American’s bottom was somewhere between light pink and dark pink, so they were halfway there. That was assuming, of course, that his sorrowful brat began crying **after** he got that far. If not, he had a request to keep at it until both things had occurred. _Which does not make me happy at all,_ Klink thought.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** With a grim determination, the German increased the force of the swats and the speed at which they came. He also began to focus only on his troublemaker’s sit spots, trying to end this quicker for him.

Damn it all, he hated seeing Hogan in this much distress. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWWWIE, OWWWWIE, OWWWWW! OWWWWIE, OWWWWIE!” Hogan wailed, his eyes watering as his tail continued to be worn out. The focus of the swats shifting to the most tender part of his rear end didn’t help either. That had probably been a stupid request to make, but it was a little late now.

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “OWWWW! I’ll be good! For the love of God, I’ll be good! OWWW! I promise, I promise! OWWWWIE! Sir, I’m sorry! OWWWWWW!”

Oh, he was definitely sorry, alright. Klink had promised that he would be, but he’d thought he’d been sorry after the first swat landed. He hadn’t even known what pain **was** until now. The tall German had also promised that Hogan would very sore and crying his eyes out as well. And much to his horror, he found that the other officer was correct about that too.

“OWWWWIE, OWWWIE! Please, it **hurts!** I’m so sorry, just **please!** OWWWWW! I swear, I’m sorry! OWWWWWIE! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m **sorry!** OWWW, OWWWW! Sir, **please!** I…I…stooooop!” he sobbed, unwilling to even try to stop the dam from bursting this time. The good news was that he’d gotten to his breaking point, but the bad news was that his tail was still being thoroughly thrashed. “OWWWWW! OWWWWIE, OWWWIE, OWWWW!”

 **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** Klink looked down at his very contrite brat’s bare behind and shook his head sadly. It wasn’t quite the shade of pink it’d been yesterday, but screw it.

Hogan was already sobbing, and he was clearly in a lot of pain. Klink felt sure tonight’s goal had been achieved. The former senior POW officer could complain all he wanted to later on, but he just couldn’t do this anymore tonight. The younger general had wormed his way into Klink’s heart, and it killed him to even have to do this much to Hogan.

****

**_ The second round of aftercare… _ **

With a thud, the hairbrush hit the floor as the German officer dropped it from his hand. He had no words to offer the tearful American, and he was certain that they wouldn’t be helpful anyway if he did. All he could do was rub Hogan’s back with one hand and stroke his hair with the other one.

“Sssh, Robert. It is done, and you are a good boy. Sssh.” Over and over he repeated that, hoping he hadn’t actually broken his brat this time. And it seemed like an eternity before Hogan said anything either.

After a few minutes of this, the sobbing subsided. Klink wished he could hold his troublemaker again, but he knew there was no way the American was going to be able to sit down comfortably for a day or two. So that type of comfort was clearly out. He decided to put some of the skin repair lotion on the tenderized area, reasoning that it had helped before. Unfortunately for the other officer, that meant Klink would have to both touch Hogan’s behind to apply it **and** rub it in.

 _At least this time it is nearby,_ the older man thought. _I can reach it easily._ After leaning over, he opened the nightstand drawer and grabbed the bottle. He popped the cap open and squeezed a little into his hand. As soon as the cool substance touched Hogan’s skin, something happened that lifted his mood immediately and made him grin.

With another howl of pain and almost comical speed, Klink watched Hogan leap up off his lap like he’d been touched back there by a lit match. His troublemaker was alternating between rubbing his now-amplified sore bottom and yanking his hands away, obviously torn between trying to rub the sting out and not wanting to touch it.

The resulting dance was amusing to see, and reminded him of something similar he’d done many, many times in his youth. He just hadn’t realized how silly it looked until now. Combined with what he was currently witnessing, he suddenly realized why Wolfgang had always laughed himself silly whenever he’d seen his younger brother doing the exact same thing!

“Is that another one of your American dance moves, Robert?” he chuckled, breaking out of his role at last to tease the younger man good-naturedly.

“Oh, can it,” his brat shot back, the tear tracks still visible on his face. “Can’t you see my butt hurts? I’m trying to fix that, if you don’t mind.”

“There is no call for disrespect, Robert,” Klink responded evenly.

“Disrespect? That was an honest opinion,” Hogan complained, still hopping around and doing the spanking dance.

“By the way, what was that cold feeling that came out of nowhere?” he asked, wondering what that had been.

“You should keep such opinions to yourself. And it was lotion,” the German replied. “The skin repair lotion, to be precise. Now stop that ridiculous dancing and get back over here.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna do that, sir,” Hogan said warily. “You sounded all too happy to light my butt on fire earlier, and I’m not sure I wanna go back over your lap again. Or, you know, at all.”

With an exasperated sigh, Klink chose to say nothing to that. Instead, he reached out and yanked the younger man close to him with a long arm.

“Hey, let me go!” Hogan said, trying to squirm away. “We’re done for tonight!”

“Actually, we are not,” replied Klink as he easily flipped Hogan over his lap once more, the years of prior experience he had in doing so coming in handy. “We still have one more thing to take care of.” He then pinned his brat’s legs again, knowing it would be helpful for what he did next.

Hogan continued to squirm as panic rose up inside his mind. Was Klink just going to pick up where he’d left off with this punishment? It seemed likely, since that’s what had happened the last time this had happened. Come to think of it, that incident had involved the hairbrush too! He concluded that hairbrushes were not his friend as he began to plead, hoping to spare himself any more suffering for tonight.

“Please, **don’t!** Don’t punish me anymore tonight! My butt **really** hurts!” he pleaded, knowing that it most likely wouldn’t do him any good. Hogan wasn’t normally a man who begged or pleaded for anything, but his tail was in utter agony right now. “It hurts so bad right now, **please** –”

“Robert!” Klink interrupted him before he could get himself fully wound up again. His tone was one of irritation as he kept the distressed American general pinned in place. “Would you kindly relax? I am not going to spank you again tonight, or tomorrow either, for that matter.”

“Huh?” asked Hogan ever so intelligently. “Then why’d you put me back over your lap? And what do you mean by that?” he demanded, his sheer stupidity causing him to astound even himself. “We had a deal!”

“To apply the skin repair lotion, you stubborn child,” Klink said, surprised that the former senior POW officer hadn’t already figured that part out. “It is also why I pinned your legs, so that you cannot accidentally kick me. And I do not think you would be able to handle a third round of this, Robert. Frankly, I am amazed that you have handled what you already been through so far," he added.

“I’m fine!” Hogan protested mulishly, even as his rear end made it painfully obvious that he was far from fine. “I’ll be good as new by tomorrow night. I’ve come this far, you know.”

“We will discuss it tomorrow, Robert,” replied Klink, his tone indicating that the subject was closed for now. Unless a miracle happened, he would stand by his decision. Still, Hogan didn’t need to know that! Squeezing some more of the lotion into his palm, he made sure he had a firm grip on his brat and began to gently apply it, wincing every time Hogan squealed in pain.

“I guess that’s – ah!” The American officer let out a gasp as the cool lotion touched his extremely tenderized behind once more. Even though it hurt, he admitted that his self-appointed disciplinarian had a very light touch. The German’s slender fingers glided over his skin as he rubbed the lotion in, and Hogan marveled at how those same fingers could be both gentle and also cause a lot of pain, depending on the circumstances.

“Do you feel any better now, Robert?” Klink asked as he finally let his remorseful troublemaker up.

Hogan considered the question as he stood up. Did he feel better? “A little bit, _Kommandant_ ,” he concluded after thinking it over for a moment. “But it still hurts a lot though,” he added.

“I would expect nothing else,” Klink responded dryly. “You have taken two very hard spankings to that area in the past two days. Even if your behind does not currently reflect as much, that does not make it untrue,” he added.

Narrowing his eyes, Hogan asked slowly, “Are you telling me my butt isn’t a darker pink than before or red?”

“That is exactly what I am telling you, Robert,” Klink replied, wondering what he was trying to say.

“Seriously? I go through all of that and I’ve got nothing to show for it?” Hogan said, his tone indicating he was pissed off. “Why? How hard was that request for you to fulfill? You’re not the one taking the punishment!”

It was at that point his common sense should’ve spoken up, but it had accepted long ago that its owner was a complete idiot and stayed silent.

“No, I am the one administering it instead!” Klink snapped, his temper boiling over at the insinuation that he could casually beat Hogan just for fun.

“Do you think it is easy for me to listen to you scream in agony, knowing **I** am the cause of it? Do you know how badly I wanted to call this off for tonight and comfort you instead? And regarding the fact that I ‘sounded all too happy to light your butt on fire earlier’, that is because I was playing a role. A role, might I add, that **you** asked me to play!”

He stood toe to toe with the other officer, breathing hard as he spoke. “If I had my way, you would never know fear or pain of any kind. All you would ever experience would be happiness and joy. But life does not work that way, and we are sometimes forced to do things we do not want to do! So for once in your bloody life, stop and **think** before you speak, Robert!”

Hogan had been about to say something else when Klink had gone off on him. Snapping his mouth shut, he listened to the short but angry tirade. And had the older officer just cussed at him in the European way? That was highly unusual, to be sure. In the three years Hogan had known the tall German, he’d rarely used **any** type of swear words. _And what was the rest of that all about?_ he wondered.

“I –” He cut himself off, his chosen words not sounding right in his head. “You’re right,” he admitted with a sigh. “That was a dumb thing to say.”

“I am well aware of that,” the former _Kommandant_ told him, still visibly upset as he sank down onto the bed. “Just go to sleep. Or listen to some music. I do not care what you do, so long as you leave me alone. I need some time to myself right now.”

With that said, he laid down and rolled onto his side, making sure his back was to the American.

But the senior POW officer wanted to resolve this now, and he despised being ignored to boot. So Hogan protested weakly, “But sir, I –”

“Go. Away. Hogan.” Klink replied through gritted teeth. “*Dis-missed.”

His mind was still replaying everything the American had just said to him, and what he’d said back as his emotions boiled over. He needed some time to think, and he couldn’t do that with the younger man in the same room with him.

Hogan debated saying something else, but he could see that Klink was truly upset with him. And the fact that **he’d** been the one to cause the older man to be so agitated made him feel like a real ass. Especially as the German general had only done this after the war because he, Hogan, had practically insisted on it due to feeling guilty. So what type of person did that make him? Obviously, the kind who yelled at a friend for doing what they’d been asked to do!

“Sure, _Kommandant_. I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” he said as he left the room. He wasn’t expecting a reply, so he wasn’t surprised when none was forthcoming. Anyway, he needed some time to think about everything as well.

**_ In the living room of Klink’s quarters… _ **

The new American general was stymied as he paced. The motions were only aggravating his sore behind, but he could care less about that right now. It’d been three hours so far since he’d come out here, yet he still hadn’t heard a peep from Klink’s room. Hogan knew exactly how long it’d been too, because he’d looked at the clock every five minutes.

He didn’t know why he was surprised, really. He’d said some really hurtful things in his anger, which hadn’t been his brightest move. Was the German general just supposed to come out after five minutes and act like everything was hunky-dory?

 _Not likely,_ he reasoned wearily. _If it were me, I’d ignore Klink for weeks! Three hours is nothing compared to that._

Though even Hogan had to admit that for once, this wasn’t just about how he felt. The older man’s feelings came into play here as well, and for once he was at a loss for what to do. That was something he was positive about, since he’d spent these last three hours scheming and coming up with ideas, only to quickly discard them. While he didn’t want to ruin the budding friendship they had together, that could very well happen if he didn’t do something soon.

To top it all off, the younger officer had come to a lot of conclusions about himself as well. Sadly, not all of them had been pleasant. And somehow he didn’t think grand gestures or anything of that nature would help, because that wasn’t the sort of man Wilhelm Klink was. For all his grandstanding and posturing, he was a gentle soul who was still a human being. And that human being had a good heart, despite the military he was in.

But somewhere during their spat, he’d obviously forgotten all of that. _Wait. Wait a minute,_ he thought as the light bulb slowly clicked on in his head. _That’s it. That’s the problem! This isn’t something I can solve with a plan. It needs to be from the heart! But what can I possibly do that would show that I’m **actually** sorry, and not just saying it?_

An idea came to him as he tiptoed to the main bedroom to see if Klink was awake. The tall German was tapping his foot to an unheard rhythm, which meant that he had to be. Nodding to himself, Hogan said nothing but headed to the kitchen. He’d make Klink a cup of his favorite mint tea and go from there. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Besides, he already knew how Klink liked it. Hopefully, it’d be a pleasant surprise. Maybe they could even talk about this. If not, he was officially out of ideas.

**_ Offering an apology… _ **

A few minutes later, the American general made his way into the bedroom, carefully balancing a cup of tea in his hands. “I thought you might want a cup of tea, sir,” he said softly, carefully setting it down. “I’ll leave it on the nightstand for you.”

There was no answer from Klink, but he wasn’t expecting one either. Forcing himself to stay silent despite the throbbing in his butt, he knelt on the floor with his head bowed. He would sit here all night if he had to, and his gut was telling him that this was the right thing to do.

So far, it’d been completely accurate every time it’d given him advice. Hogan also made sure that he was in the middle of the room. That way he was nearby the bed, but not close enough to get kicked in the head if Klink sat up. Or invade the older man’s personal space, since that would be an unwelcome intrusion.

After he was in the desired position, he said nothing at all. He chose to keep his gaze on the floor, helping to cement his show of submission if Klink elected to look at him. From that angle, he could see his _Kommandant_ out of the corner of one eye as well.

“I know you are still here, Hogan. I can feel your eyes on me, and I can hear you breathing,” Klink said quietly after a few minutes. He was surprised that the younger man had brought him the tea at all. Even so, he was still pretty upset over their earlier fight and unwilling to accept the peace offering at the moment.

When the former senior POW officer said nothing, Klink sighed grudgingly. “What do you want now?”

“It’s not what I want from you, but what do **you** want from me?” came the soft question. “Whatever you’d like me to do in order to make things right with you, I’ll do it. No questions asked. And I’m really sorry for what I said earlier too.”

 _What the…where is he at?_ Klink wondered. _Is Hogan on the floor for some reason?_ His voice sounded like it was coming from low to the ground and far away. Even though he honestly didn’t feel like it, he rolled over onto his other side to check on the situation.

Klink also wanted to make sure he didn’t kick his troublemaker in the head if he sat up, but what he saw stunned him. Hogan was kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room, with his back ramrod straight and his palms resting on his thighs. His knees were exactly even with his shoulders, and he was leaning back to rest his weight on his heels.

The other officer’s head was also bowed, with his eyes on the floor. He was silent for once as well, which was quite a surprise in itself. That was a submissive pose that took a lot of discipline and muscle strength to hold, and Klink wondered where he’d learned it. Not to mention that his bottom had to be in terrible pain from the pressure being placed on it like that, but not a single complaint was made about it.

“Just what do you think you are doing, Hogan?” he asked wearily, sick of the games for tonight.

“Showing you that I’m sorry the best way I know how, sir,” he responded, his head still bowed and his voice still soft. In addition, his eyes continued to be focused on the floor as he spoke.

“You shouldn’t worry about me. Just please, enjoy your tea while it’s hot. I made it how you like it, sir,” Hogan added before he fell silent.

Klink gave him an odd look before picking up the cup and sniffing it. He wasn’t worried about poison or anything like that, because that wasn’t the American’s style. No, he was curious to see which tea Hogan had made for him. To his surprise, it was his favorite mint one. He took a slow sip and was pleased to note that it had two sugars, which was indeed the way he liked it.

The thing was, he’d never made any sort of tea where anyone could see him, nor added anything to his cup in front of them either. For that matter, he’d never mentioned a preferred flavor to anyone. So how had Hogan known exactly what he liked?

After drinking the entire cup, he sighed again in resignation and said, “Hogan, come over here.” Of course, Klink was fully expecting his brat to get up at that point and walk over to him. That was a reasonable expectation, right?

Not tonight, it seemed. The look on his face was priceless when Hogan crawled over to the tall German instead. Despite the severe pain Klink knew him to be in, the former senior POW officer’s movements remained graceful.

After stopping right by his feet, the younger general continued to keep his eyes on the floor in the same pose he’d been in before. He started to reach out one hand in order to touch the German’s thigh, but then he realized that he didn’t have permission to do that. So he pulled it back hastily, electing to place it where it’d been previously instead.

“Yes, _Kommandant?_ What would you like me to do?” Damned if this show of submission didn’t feel weird, but Hogan’s gut was completely on board with it anyway.

“For one thing, I would like you to tell me what you think you are doing down there,” said Klink irritably. “I do not find this funny in any way.” _What new game is he playing **now?**_

“I wasn’t trying to be funny, sir. What I said to you earlier was cruel and totally uncalled for. As I said earlier, I’m trying to show you that I’m sorry for even thinking it,” replied Hogan as he let out a shaky breath. He was hurt that Klink didn’t seem to be accepting his apology, even though the older man had every right to reject it. And didn’t that beat all? If this didn’t work, he honestly didn’t know what else he could possibly do.

“By kneeling on the floor like a…a slave?” the German general asked incredulously, not buying that lame excuse for one minute. “What are you **really** doing, Hogan?”

“I just told you!” Hogan exclaimed, the outburst slipping out before he could stop it. “I mean, I just told you, _Kommandant,_ ” he amended as he made his voice soft again.

“This is all I can think of to do to prove I’m being sincere in what I’m saying. I can make all the grand gestures in the world, but that doesn’t prove anything. After all, any idiot can do that. Including this idiot,” he said in a repentant tone of voice.

“I thought maybe a token of apology from the heart would show you that I’m trying to atone for being a jerk. But if it doesn’t, then…well, then I don’t know how to fix what I did,” he admitted sadly, really wishing that weren’t true. “That was a pretty awful thing for me to say to someone I consider a friend.”

Klink contemplated the kneeling young man at his feet, listening to him talk and mulling what he’d said over. Clearly Hogan had been thinking some deep thoughts since he’d left the room hours ago. Blast it all, he wanted to stay mad at his brat! But obviously that wasn’t going to happen. So, he said, “Hogan, look at me,” instead.

By now, the former senior POW officer was almost positive that he was about to be kicked out of Klink’s quarters and back to his lonely barracks. Or even worse, out of the German officer’s life entirely. The thought was a depressing one, and he prayed it wouldn’t come to pass.

“I’m very sorry, sir. I...I tried. I really did. I guess it just wasn’t good enough,” Hogan whispered as he looked up at those blue eyes. Why did he feel like he was about to cry? _That can’t be normal,_ he thought. _But then again, when has anything at Stalag 13 ever been normal?_

“I can see that you tried,” Klink said dryly as he ignored the last part of that sentence. “I could not miss you down there even if I wanted to, you know.”

And he wanted to stay mad about this, he really did! Yet he was still touched at what the American had done for him without being asked. Not only the tea, but also the show of complete submission were points in the young general’s favor.

Klink already knew such a pose had to seriously hurt in Hogan’s current state, but he’d done it anyway of his own free will without complaining about the pain. That too said a lot about whether or not he was being candid.

“Come sit by me and talk. Never mind, forget that. Lie down on the bed facing me instead. I think we need to have a talk,” Klink finished, scooting backwards to make room for his troublemaker.

**_ Clearing the air… _ **

Nodding, Hogan carefully got to his feet, his brown eyes never breaking eye contact with the tall German. He laid down on his side as Klink had told him to, saying nothing but wincing as his sore bottom made contact with the bed.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked carefully. He was fully prepared to be assigned some horrible and/or humiliating task as a way to show penitence, and oddly that idea didn’t bother him. Whatever Klink told him to do in order to make things right, he would do it without complaint.

“To listen to me when I say something to you, as well as think before you speak. That would be a good start,” Klink replied, noticing that Hogan was dressed the exact same way as when he’d left the room hours ago. Including with his bottom still bared, which was strange.

“Tell me, is there a reason you did not fix your clothing earlier?” he inquired. That was out of character for the American general, and he wondered if his troublemaker had simply forgotten to do it.

The younger officer blushed, even as he kept his gaze on Klink. “Honestly? I originally figured that if you were going to sp-sp-spank me some more, it’d just be easier to stay this way,” he responded, forcing himself to choke out the word he hated so much in the spirit of apologizing.

“I was willing to let you beat the holy hell out of me if it would make things right between us again. I would’ve even buried my face in a pillow or something too, so you wouldn’t feel bad about hearing me scream while you were doing it,” he added, the blush deepening as he spoke.

“All I wanted was to fix what I said to you, and what I indirectly implied about you as well. But after a while, I figured out that you wouldn’t do that to me. Not even if you really wanted to, because that’s what the whole fight was about. I’ve spent the last three hours pacing in the living room while trying to figure out how to make amends,” Hogan finished, sounding very insecure in that moment.

“You are correct about that,” Klink agreed with a nod. He had to admit that he was surprised by the offer, but he had to ask what had sparked it in the first place.

“But why…why would you think that I would feel better if I beat you just because I could, Hogan? What good would that do either of us?” Klink inquired, ignoring the curse word the American had used.

“I dunno,” his brat whispered, looking shamefaced. “I guess I just figured if you could physically hurt me and make me scream in pain, it would make **you** feel better somehow. Me, the same idiot who made you angry because I can’t ever figure out when to shut up.”

He nodded his head once, confirming something in his mind. “I’m going to be completely honest with you, sir. I only had one other thought before I realized that you’d never go for it. Originally, I’d planned to bring you everything you’ve ever used during a punishment, then let you do whatever you wanted to me. I can also tell you that the first thing I would’ve handed you would’ve been the belt, even though you know I **hate** that thing. Because this wasn’t about what I wanted, and it still isn’t. It’s about you,” the former senior POW officer finished.

Klink felt his stomach recoil at the mention of the belt. He recalled all too well the screams Hogan had made when he’d been spanked with it the night before. “I will never, **ever** use that on you again, Hogan. The cries of pain you made as a result of it were far too terrifying for my liking,” he stated before moving on to the next topic.

“So wherever did you get that idea? That is some twisted logic,” the older general asked carefully, wondering if Hogan had snapped after all.

“Well, I thought it would be sort of like working out, sir. You go to the gym, you work out and your muscles are sore after you’re done. But it burns off stress and makes you feel better,” Hogan explained.

Then he told Klink of his thoughts as he’d climbed onto the bed, his fears that he’d be given some terrible thing to do as a punishment for what he’d stupidly said without thinking. He needed to be honest, and that was a good start.

While the German officer could see the logic in that reasoning, that wasn’t how he operated. “You should know by now that is not the sort of person I am, Robert. That would solve nothing at all except hurt you, which would only make things worse for both of us. And I have no desire to humiliate you either. I only want to be more careful with your words and actions, alright?”

Then he pulled Hogan to him for a one-armed hug. Yet he could feel the younger officer trembling and hear muffled noise as he did so.

“What is wrong with you now?” Klink inquired as he let go of both his former senior POW officer and his anger.

“Nothing. Everything. Ugh, I don’t know,” Hogan replied as he hiccupped. There were also fresh tear tracks on his face, which he tried to hide rather hastily. “I’m just a mess emotionally right now, so don’t mind me. Like I said before, this is about you. Not me.”

“No, it is about **both** of us, Robert. Your feelings matter too,” Klink said sharply as he pulled his troublemaker into another, tighter hug. _I am so not equipped to deal with this type of thing,_ he thought moodily.

Failing to think of any better ideas, the tall German fell back on his old standby. He began to play with the younger general’s hair and rub his back. He let his brat cry himself out, ridding himself of whatever anxiety and worries he had at the moment.

For a long while, neither of them said anything. Finally, Klink heard the muffled sounds fade away and felt the shaking in his troublemaker’s shoulders stop. “Feel better now, little one?” he asked, trying to show Hogan in his own way that everything was okay between them.

The American general moved back just enough so that his voice wasn’t muffled and said cautiously, “That depends, sir.”

“Depends on what, might I ask?” Klink said, feeling worn out by all the emotional drama tonight.

“Do…do you forgive me?” Hogan asked, sounding strangely fragile as he prayed the answer would be yes. If it wasn’t, he felt certain that he would fall apart completely.

Shaking his head at the question, Klink responded, “How could I not? You are the likeable sort, you know. And you are growing on me,” he added with a half-smile.

“Thank you, sir,” Hogan said, actually sounding grateful for once. “And thanks…I think,” he added. “I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not.”

“Take it any way you like,” said Klink with a chuckle. “Now, up you get. I am tired from tonight’s events, and it is past your bedtime.”

“I didn’t know I **had** a bedtime, _Kommandant_ ,” quipped Hogan as he carefully got up. His mood was a lot lighter now, and all because his self-appointed disciplinarian had forgiven him. _My sincere thanks to whoever’s running the show up there,_ he said silently as he quickly looked up at the ceiling and back at the older man again. _Thank you_ , **_thank you_** _for letting Klink give me another chance to be his friend._

“For tonight and tomorrow you do, young man,” the older man replied. “You will be put to bed tomorrow night at 2000 hours (8:00pm), as well as woken up at tomorrow at 0400 hours (4:00am) and the day afterward. That is half of your punishment for not thinking before you ran off at the mouth,” he finished.

“I…oh, okay,” Hogan said, deciding not to argue about it since they’d just made up after an argument. The irony of the fact that those were the same times he usually went to bed and got up lately wasn’t lost on him, but he decided not to mention that to Klink. He’d liked being a night owl before the war, which was the main reason it irked him. “That’s fair. I don’t like it, but it’s fair.”

Then he picked up on something that could potentially be unpleasant in that sentence. “Wait, half?” he asked warily, not liking the sound of that. “What’s the other half?”

“You will see in just a moment. And if you liked it then that would hardly be a punishment, Robert,” the German general pointed out. “Now, come on. It is bedtime.”

“Yes, sir,” Hogan replied, following Klink out of the room.

“What, no back-talk from you tonight?” Klink teased as they reached the guest bedroom.

“I’m trying my best not to, sir,” Hogan said sullenly.

Laughing, Klink just shook his head. “Some things never change, I suppose. Get into bed, Robert.”

“As my _Kommandant_ commands,” replied Hogan with a small smile. He laid down on his stomach, only to remember that he still needed to fix his clothing. He started to get up again to do just that, but Klink placed a slender hand on his back to stop him.

“I will take care of that for you, Robert,” the older man as he carefully pulled up Hogan’s briefs. “There, all set.” Hogan’s offhand comment made him want to smile, and he barely managed to hide it in time.

Mindful of the discussion they’d had, Hogan just barely stopped himself from hissing in pain. His rear end seriously hurt, and all of the pacing/kneeling/crawling earlier hadn’t helped it any! “Thanks.”

“You are welcome. Now, _gute nacht,_ ” said Klink as he headed for the door.

“Goodnight…hey, wait! Aren’t you going to help me get the blankets over myself? Or tuck me in again, like last night?” Hogan asked. “My butt still hurts, you know.”

The German general stopped and turned around, wearing a ‘nasty-happy’ smile. “ _Nein._ I will not be tucking you in tonight, or tomorrow night either. That is the other half of your punishment, troublemaker.”

“You’re mean,” said the American sullenly, even though he mentally admitted it was a pretty creative way to make a point. “And that’s cruel and unusual punishment! I could freeze to death, you know.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. When you show me where in the Geneva Conventions it says I have to tuck you in, I will rectify my actions,” Klink said with a smirk. “Sleep well, and be sure to keep yourself warm. Well, the rest of you, in any case.”

“Very funny,” muttered the younger general. “And the same to you, General Klink.”

Klink heard the response but said nothing as he left the room. He thought his choice of punishment was a good one. It wouldn’t cause any permanent damage to his brat, yet it would hopefully him think next time before he acted. _I will have to remember that method in the future,_ he decided as he headed for bed as well. After all, 0400 hours came early!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: By 1945, the German currency at the time was utterly worthless. Parents gave their children stacks of the money to play with.**
> 
> **German eggs are a real food, and so are _Kartoffel Kloesse/_ potato dumplings. You can find the recipes on Google.**


	12. Wrapping Up Loose Ends, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While he doesn’t regret the work he did during World War Two, General Hogan _**does**_ regret ever involving General Klink in his schemes as much as he did. Can he tough out the last day? Or will there be an unexpected surprise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Non_ = French for ‘No’  
>  _Kraut/krauts_ = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night

**_ Inside Klink's quarters, day three… _ **

As promised the night before, Klink had rousted him at exactly 0400 hours (4:00am). Hogan wasn’t thrilled about that, especially as his butt hurt worse than the day before the moment he fully woke up. Just like a sunburn, it always hurt the worst at night and all of the next day. The fact that it was ultra-sore meant that he really would be lucky to ever sit down again after tonight!

In his typical hardheaded fashion, he’d asked Klink if he would just take care of the last punishment now, so that it would be over and done with. He’d gotten a glare that could strip the varnish from wood as he was told, _“No, Hogan!”_ And even though Hogan had explained that the sooner it was over with the sooner he could begin to recover, Klink’s answer had remained the same.

For breakfast, Hogan had checked the status of the little bread they had left. He’d found it stale and proclaimed it perfect as he sliced it, making the older man give him give him a puzzled look. _“How is stale bread perfect for breakfast, Hogan?”_ Klink had asked in a confused voice.

_“You’ll see,”_ Hogan had replied vaguely before proceeding to mix some cinnamon and nutmeg into the milk. He’d actually laughed out loud when the German officer had asked him why he was dipping bread into milk and then frying it. _“It’s called French toast, sir…and no, I don’t think it’s actually from France,”_ he’d explained.

And Klink’s look had been equally hilarious when he’d brought a plate with some of it to the table! The former _Kommandant_ had been looking at the plate and under it as well, even lifting up the French toast to see where the soggy bread had gone. After having a good chuckle at his confusion, Hogan had begun to eat his breakfast. Of course, he was standing up today to eat any and all meals. Even the pillow hadn’t helped, but it’d been worth it to watch his self-appointed disciplinarian bite hesitantly into the food.

Obviously, he’d been expecting the hard bread it had been originally…so Klink’s initial shocked expression and the resulting pleased one had made the former senior POW officer very happy. The older man had even said, “ _I do wish we had thought to make this during the war. This tastes excellent, Hogan,”_ which had just made the American officer give Klink a lopsided grin.

After breakfast, the younger man had tried asking Klink to give him his final punishment again, pointing out that the anticipation of waiting was worse than anything else the German could possibly do to him. And again he’d been told no in a firm tone, which had only made him groan in disappointment.

When lunch rolled around, Klink had informed Hogan that he would be making _‘Kaese Spaetzle’_ or ‘cheese noodles’ for them. Seeing as how the ingredients included cheese, baking soda and flour but no noodles, Hogan had asked how that was going to work. In response, Klink had told him to _“shut up so that I may focus”_ and instructed his brat to stay out of his way while he cooked. The American general had watched in wonder as flour and baking soda – among other things – had somehow turned into noodles, which the tall German had topped with butter and cheese before serving.

Overall, it looked very much like the macaroni and cheese that was served in restaurants in the United States. Knowing what went into the dish, Hogan was still puzzled about how it’d turned into what was on his plate. But he’d liked everything else Klink had made him so far, so he kept an open mind when he’d tried it. The rich flavors of the cheese and butter mingling on his tongue had been enough to make him moan softly in delight as he closed his eyes. But because his eyes **were** closed, he didn’t see Klink blush and look away. When he’d opened them again, the German general looked composed as always, smiling from ear to ear when the younger man had expressed how much he’d liked it.

He’d barely gotten the words _“Sir, would you just –”_ out of his mouth after lunch before Klink had snapped _“No!”_ in an icy tone and stormed off. Hogan had watched him go, wondering why the older man insisted on making him wait **all freaking day** to have his butt lit on fire again, but this time with the plastic spoon. Reasoning that maybe Klink just didn’t understand how bad the dreaded anticipation was, Hogan resolved to ask again after he’d made dinner for them.

For dinner, Hogan had made hot dogs. Actually, he’d made _wienerwurst_ , or ‘sausage’, which was the German equivalent of hot dogs. At any rate, it was basically the same thing with different names. They had very little food left, and it was an easy enough food to make. The American had put a new spin on it by slicing the hog dogs down the middle and frying them, making them taste really good. While it wasn’t Klink’s preferred way of eating _wienerwurst_ , he had admitted it wasn’t too bad.

Now they were both in the guest bedroom as Hogan decided to plead his case again. Night had fallen, so surely Klink would listen to him now, right? He’d thought so, but apparently not.

**_ A persistent brat… _ **

"I said no, Hogan! I meant it, and that is my final word on the matter!" _But how final is it really? That is the question,_ Klink thought. _I have been repeating myself all day!_

"But _Kommandant,_ " Hogan began, still intending on trying to sway the German general to his way of thinking.

"What part of 'no', do you not understand, Hogan? The 'n' or the 'o'?" His brat had been trying to convince him all day that they needed to finish this so that he could feel better, that he could handle the plastic spoon just fine tonight, etcetera.

But Klink wasn't having it, no matter how persuasive his former senior POW officer tried to be! He'd already gone too far with the hairbrush, as he should have said 'no' to that last night too. If he gave Hogan a third spanking right now, it had a high probability of causing the younger man permanent damage. Irregardless of his supposed 'rapid healing abilities', it wasn’t going to happen.

And still his stubborn troublemaker persisted in vexing him. "If you would just –"

"Damn it, Hogan, **NO! NO, NO, NO! _NEIN! NON!_** Perhaps you are not understanding English tonight? Does German or French work better for you?" Klink snapped irritably as he massaged his temples. He hated being badgered constantly, especially about something so ridiculous.

"Well, there's no need to shout, sir. I'm right here. Geez," Hogan huffed as he crossed his arms. "I don't understand why you can't see reason."

"I **am** seeing reason, Hogan. You just do not like what you are hearing, that is all. There is no possible way you can handle a round with the spoon tonight." For the love of all that was holy, why was the younger man being so stubborn about this? Klink didn't know, but he refused to budge on the matter. "For God's sake, you cannot even sit on the sofa with me to talk. Or have you forgotten why we are in here instead?" the older general asked him.

Hogan was lying on his stomach on the bed, clad only in his underwear and a t-shirt. Klink himself was wearing his nightshirt, a pair of slippers and his golden-colored robe as he laid on his back beside the younger general. He'd started out sitting in the chair, but his legs had kept falling asleep despite getting up to move around several times. After Hogan had pointed out that the bed was big enough for both of them to share and not even be touching each other, Klink had given into that logic before stretching out on the bed next to the American.

He was quite comfortable now, and they were able to continue talking besides. Of course, his sneaky brat had waited until about a half hour had passed. Then he'd slowly scooted over to be closer to Klink. _"To hear you better,"_ was the weak excuse he'd given. The German officer had just rolled his eyes at that but said nothing about it, wondering if that was it for his tricks today. 

He really should have known better by now. Within another half hour, the former senior POW officer had all but laid on top of him! Their hips were touching, and Hogan had both his left arm and left leg thrown over his body. His excuse that time had been the flimsiest one Klink had ever heard. Hogan had claimed, _"I'm cold, and I can feel the body heat radiating off of you, sir. I don't wanna freeze to death!"_

The excuse might have been believable, except for two things. The first one was that he wasn't even under the blanket! If Hogan had truly been cold, it seemed like the smart thing to do. The second one was that his witty troublemaker had the most mischievous smile on his face as he said it.

The odd thing was, Klink really didn't mind his playful antics. He just loved that Hogan felt comfortable enough with him to act in such a way. The two of them grew closer every day, and at this point he felt more like an older brother/father figure to Hogan than anything else.

"Because I'm comfortable here, and you like it when I'm happy?" his brat said cheekily, bringing Klink back to the present moment. With anyone else, the sudden switch in mood would be a red flag, but for Hogan it was a normal part of his personality.

"No," said the tall German dryly, even as he fought a smile. "Because your insolent behind is far too sore to do so right now...and if I spanked you just once with that spoon, you would most likely pass out on me," he pointed out.

Hogan rolled his eyes and said, "You're exaggerating just a little bit, don't you think?"

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, Klink reached out and swatted the sore bottom in question twice. Both swats were as hard as he could make them in order to simulate the feel of the spoon. He needed to prove his point before he did something to his troublemaker he would regret later on. The swats landed on the American officer's buttcheeks, one on each side. **SMACK! SMACK!**

As expected, Hogan let out a yelp of pain and jumped. The unexpected thing was that he didn't move from where he was at. "OW, OW! Hey, what was that for?" he demanded to know with a glare. Klink's slender fingers had felt like branding irons on the tender skin, which in turn sent a new flash of fire rippling through his behind.

"To prove my point," Klink replied wryly, hoping Hogan would drop the subject now. "You have on underwear, and that was only two swats with my hand. Now imagine a plastic spoon with holes spanking your bare bottom. You would be screaming for mercy after the first swat landed."

"Would not," Hogan said sulkily, hating the fact he was wrong about what he could handle as he rubbed the sting away. Even the slight touch made him wince, which only served to confirm Klink’s point.

"You would too, you brat," Klink said with a chuckle. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" he asked in an amused tone of voice.

"You could always keep me around," Hogan suggested cheerfully.

"Keep you around? Whatever for?" Klink asked, sounding puzzled. He thought it was a great idea, personally. But why did Hogan think so?

Shrugging, Hogan replied, "I dunno. An American general could fetch a good price at the local pet store for you, and I could be a breeding stud," he said with a lopsided grin. "You could just keep me around for the company, since I've been told I'm fun to be around. Or if nothing else, you could punish me when you get mad at someone else, like a type of stress relief," he finished playfully. His brown eyes danced with humor, showing that he was only joking. Hogan also wasn’t too worried about the last option after their discussion the previous night.

"Now that last idea has some merit," Klink joked, loving the pout that followed his comment. He had to get his digs in where he could, after all.

" **Well!** That's not very nice of you," replied his brat in a mock indignant tone of voice.

"I never claimed that I was a nice person, you know. And you said it first, not me. I was merely agreeing with you," Klink pointed out.

"I'm still say that I'm perfectly fine, you mother hen," Hogan grumbled crossly, sounding highly annoyed that he wasn't getting his way for once as he switched topics.

Meanwhile, Klink was of the opinion that it was just too bad if Hogan was unhappy about what he'd been told. He wasn't going to win every argument, because life was unfair like that.

"That is a lie and you know it. I just proved that to you. I am not a mother hen simply because I refuse – I repeat, I **refuse** – to cause you any type of permanent damage. I am really beginning to think this is some trick of yours to hurt yourself for some reason. And I am warning you now, I will not stand for it, Hogan!"

"Me? What reason would I possibly have to ever pull a trick like that?" Hogan asked indignantly, wondering where in the world Klink had gotten that idea from.

"I do not know. If I knew **why** you did the things you did, perhaps I would be able to curb that mulish streak of yours and discipline you properly. And by properly, I mean making sure that the lesson in question sticks in your brain!" Klink said in exasperation. 

"Even if I **were** to grant your request, it would be because you asked me to do so. So if I permanently damage you as a result, it is indirectly your fault...which means I would have to spank you for asking me to spank you! Think about that for a moment," the older man suggested. "Anyway, you already know by now – or you **should** know, at any rate – the rule I have for you regarding that sort of thing. What implement do I use to correct you anytime you put yourself or anyone else in harm's way, hmmm?"

After trying to wrap his head around that strange logic for a minute, Hogan gave up in favor of shooting a defiant glare at the German. Yet he gave no verbal answer to that question, refusing to answer it on the grounds that he might incriminate himself.

Raising an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence, Klink prompted, "Well? Answer me, Hogan."

But Hogan just shook his head, unwilling to cooperate. _Let's see how Klink likes me ignoring what **he** has to say,_ Hogan thought smugly.

Giving a weary sigh, Klink inquired, "Do I need to go get the item in question and give you another demonstration, little brat? Since you obviously feel 'perfectly fine' and all?" he finished, making air quotes with his fingers. He was giving the American one more chance to answer him before he actively reacted to the show of disrespect. _There is no way I would **actually** ever do that to him again,_ Klink thought. _But a bluff is still an excellent weapon!_

At the thought of the leather belt roasting his already well-tenderized bottom, Hogan responded, "No," in the most sullen tone he could possibly manage.

"Just 'no', Hogan?" Klink inquired with false sweetness, intending on giving Hogan a hard time now since he wanted to have a flippant attitude.

"Fine! No, **sir** ," he said sarcastically.

"I suggest you drop that sarcastic tone immediately, young man. Unless you wish to have your mouth washed out with soap, that is," Klink retorted.

"I'm not overly worried about it, because you'd never do that to me," Hogan said confidentially. "You're only jo –" He cut himself off at the warning look he was getting from the tall German.

Unfortunately, he'd also just remembered something Klink had said long ago to him. "Never mind," he sighed. "You would really do that to me?" he asked incredulously as the mental image of him foaming at the mouth with bubbles came to mind. _I would look like I had rabies!_

"I most certainly would," Klink said with a smirk. "I let you get away with a great deal of things, Robert Hogan. But I will not tolerate either a disrespectful attitude or a smart mouth from you."

"You can be a pain in the butt sometimes, you know that?" Hogan said as he sulked. He didn't think soap would taste too great. Not even if it was the kind that smelled extra good!

"I am well aware of this, as I have been exactly that to you for the past year. Irregardless, flattery will gain you nothing, Hogan," Klink responded with a smile. "But you never gave me your answer. Do I need to go said implement and give you a demonstration again?"

"No…sir," the American added reluctantly, not happy at all with being one-upped tonight. _Why won't Klink just let this go?_ he wondered.

"Then answer the question. What do I use to correct you when you manage to put anyone – but especially yourself – in harm's way?" _Perhaps that is the problem I am having with him,_ the German officer considered. _There is too much action and not enough discussion happening._

"We both already know which one you like to use, so leave me alone," Hogan replied sullenly, not liking the more stubborn side of Klink at all.

"Hogan...." Klink warned as he began to lose his patience. _Really, how hard is it to give a direct answer today?_ he thought wearily.

"Why do I have to say it out loud? It's embarrassing," Hogan muttered. He was attempting to wheedle out of even acknowledging the belt's existence, never mind admitting what it was used for!

Nodding, Klink responded, "That is precisely the point. Since the act of warming up your naughty bottom – no matter how often I do it – does not appear to be working that well to correct your behavior, perhaps this will. It is said that repetition is the key to gaining knowledge, you know," he pointed out.

With a scoff, Hogan shot back, " **Warming up** my butt? You haven't been 'warming up' a damn thing, General Klink. Toasting it? Yes. Setting it on fire better than firewood? Absolutely. Warming it up? No," he finished with a small shake of his head as he made air quotes with his fingers.

Rolling his eyes at his over-dramatic brat, Klink sighed and said, "Language, Hogan. And you are diverting from the topic at hand. Now, for the last time...answer the question before I lose my patience! You will not like the results if I do," he threatened, still unable to comprehend how one man could be this impossible.

"What do you mean, **losing** it? Sounds like you already lost it if you ask me," Hogan said cheekily, hoping a joke might distract the German general.

But it was not to be. "Ah, but I did not ask you, did I?" Klink replied, moving the American's limbs off of him so that he could get up. He wasn't sure what he was going to do after that exactly, especially because he had no intention of carrying through with his threat. Even so, it was a little late to let the subject go at this point.

"Where are you going?" Hogan inquired, suddenly getting a bad feeling as his senses went on high alert.

"To get the required tool for a demonstration. Obviously, you have forgotten the answer to my question and need a reminder of it," Klink said grimly, hating how Hogan always pushed things too far. He was moving slowly on purpose, trying to give his troublemaker every opportunity to change his mind and cooperate with him. The slow movements also gave himself some extra time to think about what to do as well.

"I didn't forget the answer! There's no need for all that, sir," Hogan said, a little too hastily for his liking. As soon as the words left his mouth, he threw his left arm and left leg over his _Kommandant_ again as a stalling tactic.

Klink bit back a grin as he saw the recognition of what he planned to do dawn in the younger man's eyes. Or at least what Hogan thought he planned to do, anyway. "Hmmm," he said thoughtfully as he tapped his chin. "Somehow, I am not convinced of that. After all, you have either dodged the question or blatantly refused to answer it several times in a row now," he announced. "So I can only conclude that you must be lying to me."

Klink then moved Hogan's arm and leg off of his body once again as he went to get up, only to make a show of pausing abruptly. "Unless...but never mind. You would not be interested in that," he said nonchalantly as he resumed moving again.

Yet the former senior POW officer only moved his limbs back into place as he asked warily, "Be interested in what?" He had a sneaking suspicion he was being played, but he couldn't see how. True, he'd done it to the tall German countless times. But if Klink had been smart enough to learn that skill from him, he would've surely have used it before now.

_Hogan is falling right into my trap,_ Klink thought with satisfaction. Now he knew just why his brat had done this type of thing to **him** all of these years! "Nothing, just forget I mentioned anything to you. As I said before, you would not be interested anyway," he finished, acting as if what he said was no big deal. Then he tried to roll away instead, deliberately not putting much effort into doing so that he would stay pinned.

"You don't know that, because I don't know what you're even talking about. Tell me!" demanded the American impatiently, keeping Klink pinned to his side with one arm as his curiosity got the better of him.

"Well...I suppose. If you are sure you would like to know," Klink said, drawing out the suspense on purpose and relishing in his brat's obvious frustration with his vague wording.

With a heavy sigh, Hogan growled out, " _Kommandant!_ Just tell me what you're talking about already!" He was getting more irritated by the minute, and the idea that he might be being manipulated wasn't setting well with him. "For crying out loud, it's not that hard to give someone a straight answer! Geez."

"Well, you are certainly are mouthy tonight, Hogan," quipped Klink with a smirk. "However, you are correct. It is not that hard to give someone a straight answer, so I will tell you of what I am speaking of." 

He made sure he had Hogan's full attention before continuing on. "It occurred to me that you might like to avoid another demonstration, as it were, by giving me a direct answer to the question I asked of you. For the sake of clarity, it was this: What implement do I use to correct you when you manage to put anyone – but especially yourself – in harm's way?" 

Then he shrugged casually and added, "But as I previously stated, you would not be interested in that. So, I shall give you the demonstration instead." With his cards laid out on the table now, Klink began to scoot away yet again. Having never done something quite like this before, he wondered what the results of it would be.

For a moment, all Hogan could do was stare at the German general. He **had** been played! _And pretty well too,_ he admitted to himself. The problem was that no matter what he did now, he wasn't going to like it. Either his pride would be hurt...or his behind would be hurt more. 

_Damn, but that was actually really good,_ he thought grudgingly as he reflected on what had just happened again, slightly upset that he'd been outmaneuvered for once. _It's exactly the type of thing I'd do!_ "Okay, fine," he said sullenly, conceding defeat but not happy about it.

Since he could feel Klink trying to get up, Hogan tightened his grip on the older man. "You use the belt to correct that problem. Satisfied?" he asked with a pout.

"Indeed," confirmed Klink as he stopped moving and relaxed again. "Was that so hard to say, you stubborn child?"

"Yes!" Hogan shot back, ignoring that he'd been called a child as his pout increased. He could hear the underlying affection in the nickname, which in turn made it difficult to keep his voice sounding sullen. 

"There is no need to sulk, Hogan," Klink said gently. "I only asked you a simple question...you are the one who made things difficult for yourself."

"But I don't like talking about it!" Hogan protested as he began to blush. "And I'm still not sure why you're more concerned about when I put myself in danger then other people." He didn't get why Klink had taken to looking out for him lately at all, if he was being honest with himself.

Overall, it was probably the strangest thing the American general experienced since he'd been shot down in this country. And given everything else that he'd both done and had happen to him since arriving in Germany, that was impressive.

A slender hand reached out to play with his brat's hair as Klink answered. "Because, Robert, someone has to look out for you. You are far too cocky for your own good, and you overestimate what you are capable of at times."

He liked the feel of it under his hand, and the piece that laid on Hogan's forehead was his favorite part of all. Since he didn't have much hair himself, Klink enjoyed stroking and touching the American's hair when he was able to. It looked and felt like black silk to him.

"Besides, if others choose to get mixed up in your crazy schemes, that is mostly their problem. You only get punished for convincing them to help you in the first place," the German officer said in an amused tone. "Anyone that knows you should know better than to listen to a word you say. But I will not deny that you are very persuasive when you want to be."

"You listen to me all the time, though," Hogan felt compelled to point out. "And by the way, that trick was pretty well done," he reluctantly admitted, feeling he ought to give credit where it was due despite himself. "You really had me fooled. Obviously, you've spent too much time around me."

"Thank you, Robert. And apparently, that is the case." He threw up the hand that wasn't stroking Hogan's hair in mock frustration. "You are correct in saying that I have always heard you out," Klink admitted, unable to deny that fact even if he wanted to.

"And look where it has gotten me...relaxing on the bed while my brat does a fair imitation of an octopus!" As if to reinforce that statement, the older general glanced pointedly at the former senior POW officer’s limbs that were still draped over him.

"Excuuuuuse me," the younger officer huffed, trying to sound offended and failing. "Like I'm told you earlier, I'm just cold. And you're throwing off body heat like crazy, so why shouldn't I use it to warm up?"

"You know, I would almost believe you...except that you are not under the blanket!" Klink said with a playful grin.

For a few seconds, Hogan had to marvel at the strange direction his life had taken lately. "Of course not, sir. How could I use your body heat to keep me warm if the blanket is pinning me down? Think about the logistics of that," he suggested helpfully. 

"You would not need me to keep you warm then," Klink said. "The blanket would work far better than I to keep you warm as well."

"Probably," Hogan said agreeably. "But I like this way better. It's got a personal touch to it."

"I will show you ‘a personal touch', troublemaker," Klink teased him. "Just keep talking."

"Thought you already did, _Kommandant_ ," Hogan teased back. 

"I suppose you are right, Robert," Klink said with a sigh, returning to the main argument they’d been having. "And yet you have been harassing me about this all day. I have never seen someone so determined to cause themselves such pain. You are very strange, I must admit."

A random idea occurred to the American officer at that point. It was crazy, it was stupid, and it had no chance of working...which was why Hogan figured it was the ideal plan. "Strange is my middle name, and I'll make you a deal, General," he replied, working out his idea mentally as a mischievous smile crossed his face.

"I thought it was Edward,” Klink said with a chuckle. “And oh no," the older general added with a groan as he recognized that look. Almost every time he'd seen it previously, it meant trouble. "What are you plotting now, troublemaker? *Whatever it is, request denied."

"It’s my unofficial middle name,” Hogan grumbled. “But I’m always plotting all sorts of stuff, and you haven’t even heard what I’m asking you yet," he said, mostly to send Klink into a mental tailspin.

"Seriously though, here's what I'm proposing to you. I'll stop bugging you to use the spoon on me for now, even though I think it’s justified because of the deal we made. But only **if** you'll stay here with me tonight. I do get cold easily, even under the blankets. And you could stay on your side of the bed," Hogan suggested uncertainly, unsure of how this was going to come across and not wanting to offend Klink in some way.

"London said earlier that they're dropping off my package tonight. So that means we can leave Stalag 13 for good tomorrow. C'mon, please?" Hogan asked, using the sweetest tone of voice he could muster up. "It would help me out a lot."

Klink looked at his troublemaker and rolled his eyes. Hogan looked so innocent right now, something the German officer knew for an absolute fact that he **wasn’t**. And even entertaining the idea made him flustered, mostly for reasons he refused to think about.

"I...what?" the former _Kommandant_ asked, sounding baffled and trying to get his bearings on the new topic. "You said before that you are hot blooded, and blankets absorb body heat to keep you warm. That is how they work. I am sure you will be just fine without me tonight."

He was disappointed at turning Hogan down, but he needed a reason to justify it if he wanted to give his okay to this insane idea...even if he was only justifying it to himself. "And just how would it help you out, Hogan?" he asked curiously, still unable to fully resist that sweet tone of voice. _Damn it all, he has me wrapped around his finger and he knows it,_ Klink thought.

"Well, you know," Hogan explained. "Sometimes I have bad dreams from all of the recent trauma I've been through, so you'd be like a big teddy bear. Very comforting, but only if I needed it!" he added hastily, making up everything and completely winging the conversation as he went along.

Ignoring the fact that the idea of being Hogan's teddy bear made his stomach develop butterflies, Klink asked the important question on his mind. "Recent trauma?" he repeated, wondering what the hell had happened to Hogan that he hadn't mentioned before.

Who had dared to hurt his brat? More importantly, why did he feel so upset about that prospect? _God help whoever hurt Hogan if I ever catch them,_ Klink thought darkly, actually feeling murderous intent towards someone for once. _They **will** die, and it **will** be painful!_

"Yup," Hogan confirmed, unaware of the dark turn Klink's thoughts had taken. He pointed to his rear end and clarified what he had just said. "Recent trauma."

The older man snapped out of his dark mood rather quickly as he realized what the American general had been implying. Grateful his former senior POW officer hadn't been hurt in any way (except his pride), Klink growled, "That is **not** funny at all, Robert!" He gave the 'traumatized' area in question four sharp swats, two to each sit spot. Of course, he made sure to alternate them each time so that they landed left, right, left, right. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

"OW, OW, OW, OW!" Hogan howled. "Hey, that really hurt! Why'd you swat my butt this time?" he asked, gingerly rubbing away the stinging in his sore behind and wincing.

"For making me think that something truly horrible had happened to you, young man!" Klink said angrily, shaking a finger in his face. "That was not okay to do!"

Hogan knew he'd crossed the line from the sharp tone, so he nodded as his mood shifted to a more contrite one. "You're right, that wasn't okay. I was just trying to make a joke, but it backfired instead. I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, actually meaning it and feeling like a heel as well.

"So, will you stay?" Hogan asked again, hoping he hadn't just killed his chances for this weird plan to work. "Pleeeeeease?" he begged, not minding doing so for once as his tone of voice returned to the sweet one it'd been before.

"Oh, all right," Klink grumbled, letting himself be talked into the odd request despite his better judgement. "But do try and refrain from draping yourself all over me, if you would." Secretly, he wouldn't mind at all. Actually, he would welcome it, but he had to keep up appearances.

Shrugging, Hogan replied, "I can't guarantee what I will or won't do in my sleep, sir. But I'll try." In reality, of course, he had every intention of faking being asleep and doing just that! Then he clapped his hands excitedly and grinned, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. "We finally get to have a sleepover!"

"Why do you sound so excited about that, troublemaker?" Klink asked in an amused voice. "You act as if this is your first time doing such a thing. Surely you have either a younger brother, older brother or a friend back home that you have done this with before?" From what little he knew of Americans, they tended to have an average of three to four children per family.

But to his surprise, Hogan shook his head. "I'm an only child," he said moodily. "And I didn't have any real friends growing up. Everyone thought I was 'too bossy'. My men here were the very first friends I ever had. And being 'bossy' in the military was a good thing, not something bad," he finished, making air quotes with his fingers.

What was he supposed to say now? "Oh. I see," Klink finally replied, not sure what else to do. _That explains a lot, actually._ "Well, do not fret. I have done this a few times with my brother, and it can be fun. You will see," he added, wanting to wipe the forlorn look from the younger man's face.

Yet it wasn't working, as Hogan was still lost in his own thoughts. At least, he had been. But when he felt a stinging swat to his right buttcheek again, he paid attention to Klink rather quickly.

**SMACK!** "OW!" the former senior POW officer complained, shaking himself out of his funk and giving the older man a glare. "What'd I do now?"

"Nothing, except wallow in whatever moody thoughts you were having," came the snarky reply, even as Klink gently rubbed away the sting he'd just caused in his brat's behind.

"Geez, is it against the law to be depressed for a few minutes? I didn't realize you'd said anything," Hogan snapped.

Klink smirked and said, "I know, which is why I had to get your attention somehow."

"You couldn't have tapped my shoulder or something, you killjoy?" Hogan complained.

"Perhaps," Klink allowed. "But this way is far more fun." He delivered another swat, this time to Hogan's left buttcheek. **SMACK!**

"OW, stop that! And what was **that** one for?" demanded the irritable American as he scooted away, not wanting to experience any more unexpected swats. He blushed at the realization that Klink had found the ultimate way to keep him in line. All the older general had to do was make his rear end sore, and then just swat it randomly whenever he wanted to get Hogan's attention! _And that’s a realization I could’ve done without ever having, damn it,_ he thought.

"Since I did it the last time you called me a killjoy, I thought I would keep the same pattern in place," Klink explained, looking satisfied with himself.

"I think I like it better when you rub my back instead," Hogan grumbled, happy that at least the other officer was again getting rid of the sting he'd just created. "Or mess with my hair." Even though he complained about it, he knew Klink had a very gentle touch when it came to soothing away the pain he felt in his behind.

"I would not mind doing either one. Or even both, if you would prefer. But you will need to hold still," Klink replied unexpectedly.

"Why?" Hogan asked suspiciously, his hands flying behind him. He had to protect his throbbing rear end from any more unexpected swats, after all. "Don't smack my butt anymore! I don't like it," he huffed in embarrassment.

"I should hope not, or I have not done my job correctly," Klink said as he raised his eyebrows. "You moved away when I gave you those few swats earlier, and I cannot reach you now. Well, at least not comfortably. So I am trying to get closer to you. Duh," he finished, trying out a new word he'd learned from Hogan previously.

Hearing the very American term combined with the aristocratic German accent lifted Hogan's bad mood. "You've definitely been around me way too long," he chuckled.

"I quite agree," Klink deadpanned. "But I made you smile anyhow."

Hogan gave the German a surprised look. "You were just trying to make me smile?" he questioned as he felt a grin light up his face.

"Yes, and I am happy to say that it worked," Klink said smugly.

Sighing, the American shook his head. "I'm just surprised is all. You really threw me for a loop."

"Well, you have thrown me for a loop more times than I can count, Robert. So it is only fair that I should be able to do the same to you once in a while," Klink said reasonably.

He looked at his watch and gave Hogan a knowing smile as he got off the bed, managing to do so successfully this time. He had to give his troublemaker some credit, because Klink had all but forgotten that he was still punishing Hogan for his disrespect the night before.

“Given what happened the last time, I probably shouldn’t ask this,” began Hogan reluctantly. “But where are you going this time? I didn’t forget to answer any more questions, did I?” he added quickly.

Fortunately for him, Klink shook his head. “No, Robert. But it is your bedtime, and even naughty boys need their rest,” he pointed out with a shrug. “And besides, I have just remembered that I cannot accommodate you on staying here tonight.”

“Why not?” Hogan asked, unhappy that his plans had been derailed.

“I hardly think it would be fitting to give you a reward, considering that you are still being punished, young man,” the tall German said with raised eyebrows.

Huffing and shooting the older man a dirty look, the younger general decided to see if he could salvage the situation. “What about tomorrow night?” he asked dejectedly.

“Hmmm. That depends on you, Robert. We shall see,” Klink said noncommittally.

But before he could say anything else, a loud air horn was heard. After about five seconds, another one was heard as well, followed by a third one another five seconds later.

“Fuck!” Hogan swore, trying to scramble out of bed but not getting very far. “Owww. Where’s my uniform?” He looked around, trying to see where he’d left it.

“Damn it, I’ve gotta get dressed!” He tried to roll over and sit up, but that wasn’t happening at the moment either. “Owww!”

Klink watched the sudden change in his brat’s demeanor with a puzzled look, trying to figure out what had him so panicked all of a sudden. “Language, Robert. And it is on the chair, where you left it. But just where do you think you are going now?” he asked.

“That’s the people from London, sir. They’re about six hours earlier than I asked them to be, but I’ve gotta go meet them. That’s the package I’ve been waiting for,” Hogan explained impatiently as he considered how he was going to get dressed in his current state.

“You are not going anywhere right…did you say six hours early?” Klink started to say, only to cut himself off and switch subjects mid-sentence.

A suspicious look came over his face as he asked, “Why would they be coming by Stalag 13 to drop off **anything** at….0200 hours (2:00am)?” Klink said after pausing to do some quick calculations. “England is not that far from here, and surely they would normally wait until a reasonable hour to do that?”

The American officer shrugged, trying to act as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “Who knows with the British? They’re a little weird anyway,” he replied offhandedly, well aware of both the suspicious look and tone the German officer had.

“Oh, I think you just might, Robert,” Klink said with narrowed eyes. “Mainly because you **asked** them to come by at that late hour!”

He sighed and made sure his troublemaker’s uniform was well out of his reach. “You were planning on sneaking out to meet them tonight!”

“Yeah,” Hogan admitted, realizing he was caught and seeing no point in denying the obvious.

The older man shook his head, wondering why Hogan would even bother with sneaking out of the camp. He was free to leave at any time, so it wasn’t like he’d be shot as an escaped prisoner of war if he did.

“Yet you did not think I would hear that loud noise at that time of morning?” Klink demanded as something else dawned on him. “And you set this up anyway, even though you actually believed I was going to spank you with the spoon tonight?” he asked in disbelief.

“How were you planning to go anywhere, Robert? You can hardly move right now,” the German officer felt compelled to point out. “I do not think your situation would have improved any if I had done as you asked me to.”

“Okay, so it wasn’t one of my better plans,” Hogan grumbled, seeing the flawed logic in the idea once it was pointed out to him. “Now, please hand me my uniform. I’ve got to go meet them.”

“It was not any sort of plan at all!” the German general snapped as he shook his head. “And absolutely not, Robert. You will not be going anywhere tonight.”

“I don’t think you get it,” Hogan shot back hotly as he tried to grab his clothes. “They’re here because of a special request that **I** made. To say London will be pissed off if they came all this way and I don’t meet them is an understatement. Somebody’s got to go get the package, and it can’t exactly be you!”

“Why not? I can wear your uniform long enough to collect it,” Klink spontaneously decided as he headed for the bathroom to change.

“Because they know what I look like, for one thing! Literally everyone on the Allied side does. The High Command wanted to be sure that nobody could impersonate me to gain valuable secrets during the war. And because of the operation I was running here, they had to be doubly sure of that,” Hogan responded.

Then he watched his self-appointed disciplinarian walk away with his uniform. “Hey, where are you going with my clothes? I need that, you know,” the former senior POW officer snapped in irritation.

“Ah, but I never said I was going to pretend to be **you** , Robert. I merely said I would borrow your uniform to meet them,” came the muffled reply as the German got dressed.

“And what good is that going to do? They’re expecting **me** , not anybody else!” growled the American general in frustration, feeling like he was losing control of this situation.

“Oh, I do not know,” Klink said sarcastically as he came back into the room, fully dressed but still doing up the last few buttons of his borrowed shirt. “Maybe because I would like to avoid being shot before I can give them a message, perhaps?”

“Message? What are you talking about now?” Hogan demanded. He wasn’t in the mood for games right now. He had something important to go collect, and Klink was delaying him. He didn’t have time for this shit!

As Klink slipped on his troublemaker’s shoes, he said smoothly, “Why, that you are not feeling well, of course. So you sent me in your stead, wearing your clothes so they would believe me.”

The tall German pulled on Hogan’s bomber jacket and zipped it up as he added, “Such a shame that you are feeling ill and vomiting so much. It must be a twenty-four hour bug.”

“But I’m not actually sick. What if they want to see me anyway?” the younger man protested, worried that Klink was going to get himself shot for doing this.

“Then I shall bring them here, and you will be the ham that I know you can be,” said Klink evenly. “I do not think you want me to tell them the real reason you are unable to walk out there. Not that I would anyway,” he added. The tall German had a mischievous look on his face as he grabbed Hogan’s crush cap and put it on.

“No, but…” He trailed off, feeling helpless to stop the train wreck he felt was coming. “Geez, you must be nuts,” Hogan finally said in exasperation, knowing he’d lost the argument.

“I had a very good teacher,” Klink felt the need to say, smirking as he did so. He covered his brat with a blanket. “I will be back shortly, Robert.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just be careful, okay?” Hogan muttered unhappily as he relaxed back onto the bed. “Just blow the air horn three times if you need me, the same way they did.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Klink said confidentially, “I will not need you. Either they will believe what I say, or they will come here with me to see if I am lying about where you are. And God help you if you are anywhere else but this bed when I return!” he growled, shaking his finger in warning before he exited the room.

“Yes, Dad,” the American general called out behind him as he heard the door open and shut. “Mother hen,” he added softly, keeping his ears strained for any sounds of a scuffle. He would only relax after the older man was back safe and sound!

**_ Meeting new people… _ **

Meanwhile, in the darkness just outside the gates, there were two American pilots standing side by side. Their names were Major Floyd Johnson and Captain Harold Wilson, and they were awaiting the arrival of one General Robert Hogan.

“What’s taking the general so long?” Wilson wondered.

“Maybe Hogan’s down in the tunnels,” Johnson responded, curious about that himself.

“Why would he be down there?” Wilson asked. “The war’s over.”

“You’re asking **me** to explain General Hogan to you?” Johnson said with a laugh. “President Truman himself can’t do that, Captain Wilson. So what chance do I have?”

“You’ve got a point there, Major Johnson,” his companion agreed. “Think we should give the signal again?”

“No, let’s give it a few more minutes. Hogan could be anywhere in those tunnels if that’s where he’s at. Besides, we’re several here hours early anyway,” Johnson replied, even as he saw a shadowy figure moving slowly towards them. “General Hogan?” he called out.

“I am afraid not, but I am a friend of his,” they heard a German voice say. Both men unsnapped their holsters and drew their weapons.

“A friend of an American general? A _kraut_?” Wilson asked, not believing what he considered to be a pathetic lie. “In the heart of Germany? Yeah, right.” He pointed his weapon at the slowly advancing figure, but kept the safety on just in case he was wrong.

But the major wasn’t so cautious. While he too aimed his weapon at the figure, he clicked the safety off. The sound seemed to echo in the darkness as he said, “Show yourself! We’re armed, and we won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

“I had planned on it, gentlemen,” Klink said dryly, ignoring the insult as he emerged into the light. “I just did not think it was wise to move too quickly, lest you take me as a threat.”

He held both hands out in front of him and slightly in the air, causing his arms to rest at a ninety degree angle. “I am unarmed, and I would appreciate it if you did not shoot me,” he added.

“Uh-huh, suuuuure,” Johnson replied mockingly. He nodded to his subordinate and said, “Frisk him.”

“Yes, sir,” Wilson said, giving a salute and moving towards Klink. “No sudden movements or you’ll end up looking like Swiss cheese, mister.”

“Heaven forbid,” Klink replied wryly, making sure he held perfectly still. “Please make sure you are through in your search, _Herr_ Captain. I would very much like to put my hands down, and I do not want any misunderstandings between us.”

After Wilson had made sure he patted the German man down well, he stepped back and returned to the major’s side. “He’s clean, sir,” the captain reported, moving back to stand beside his commanding officer.

“Good,” Johnson responded with a nod to the other American. His gaze fell upon the new arrival again and noticed something was off with his clothing. “Wait a minute…that’s General Hogan’s uniform! What did you do with the general?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes and aiming his pistol at Klink’s chest.

The sight of a loaded weapon – and one that he knew the safety was off on to boot – pointed directly at his heart was unnerving, but Klink had had worse things happen to him in his military career. “As I said before, _Herr_ Major, I am a friend of Robert Hogan. I did not think you would even hear me out dressed in my own uniform. I did think perhaps if I wore his instead, it would help prove I am not lying to you,” he said evenly.

“Yeah, or you could’ve killed him and stole his clothes!” Wilson piped up angerly. “Who are you, anyway?”

“If I had done that, they would have blood all over them. Death does tend to be messy,” the older man pointed out with a sigh, continuing to keep perfectly still. He knew they were mistrustful of any German, and they had a good reason to be.

But he also knew what he was about to say wasn’t going to help the situation at all. “My name is General Wilhelm Klink. I am part of the _Luftwaffe_ , and I was the _Kommandant_ of Stalag 13. Until recently,” he added calmly.

The two Americans looked at each other, wondering if the German was telling them the truth. “Until recently? What happened?” Johnson finally asked with some curiosity.

“The war ended, that is what happened,” the tall German deadpanned. “As I said previously, I am a friend of General Robert E. Hogan. May I put my hands down now?” he requested. “Your captain has told you I am unarmed, and I am no threat to either of you.”

Wilson looked at his superior officer, who shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Yeah, okay. Just do it slowly, and keep your hands at your sides, General.”

“ _Danke_ , _Herr_ Captain,” Klink said as he slowly lowered his arms. When his hands were at his sides again, he inquired, “May I know your names?”

“I’m Major Johnson, and this is Captain Wilson,” the major said, motioning first to himself and then his subordinate. He was definitely puzzled by the strange events so far, and he was pretty sure Wilson felt the same way.

“Your English is very good, by the way,” Johnson added, not used to hearing his native language so flawlessly from a German. “So where’s General Hogan? We were told to meet him here to give him a package.”

“ _Danke_ , and it is nice to meet you,” Klink replied politely, the years of manners having been beaten into him taking over on reflex. “And I am aware of that, which is why I am here. Robert is not feeling well, so I am picking it up on his behalf.”

Wilson sized up the German general. He appeared to be telling the truth, but some people were really good liars. And why did this guy keep calling the general by his first name? It seemed awfully familiar to him. “Look, do you expect us to believe that? He was just fine when we talked to him yesterday.”

“Have you never had a twenty-four hour bug, Captain Wilson?” Klink asked, hoping he was a good enough liar to pull this off. He had to, for his brat’s sake. There was just no way Hogan was in any shape to walk all the way out here!

“Especially in a prisoner of war camp? They are not pleasant, and the food here is hardly ideal,” Klink added reasonably. “He was almost asleep in the guest bedroom when I left my quarters earlier to meet you.”

“Hogan’s asleep in your quarters?” asked Johnson in surprise. “I don’t believe it. Why would he be in there?”

“Why not?” countered Klink as he struggled not to sound irritated. “The barracks are all very drafty, and it is just us left. Everyone else has already gone, but we had to stay behind for a few days anyhow. Both of us were needed to finish up all the paperwork involved with running a prison camp. Far too much paperwork for my liking,” he muttered. “It would be a waste of resources to heat two buildings for only two men, as I am sure you know.”

“True,” Wilson allowed as he thought about that. “But since when does a German give a damn about an American prisoner of war?”

The German officer rolled his eyes as he asked, “Have either you or Major Johnson even **met** General Hogan, _Herr_ Captain? He is the most interesting individual I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Especially with his heart of gold and his…other, more extracurricular activities,” he finished carefully, not sure how much the two American officers knew.

The two officers exchanged a look, wondering how much the older man knew. “Extracurricular activities? What are you saying, General Klink?” the major questioned. “Just what do you know?”

Klink thought about how to answer the question without being overly detailed about it. “I know all about the…let us just call it ‘*the traveler’s aid society’, shall we?” he responded. “I am just surprised that Stalag 13 has not become a sinkhole long before now, if you get what I am saying.”

“You know about that?” Johnson asked, trying to decide if he should report this to the brass or not. He knew the American general had a reputation for his bizarre style of doing things, but there was still a thing called secrecy!

“I know more than I ever wanted to know, Major Johnson. Believe me,” Klink said in a serious tone. “Bu with all due respect, can we move this along? As I said, Robert is not feeling well, and I would prefer not to leave him alone for too long. He does tend to overdo it at times,” he added.

“You seem like you check out, but I’m sure you understand that we just can’t take your word for it,” Johnson replied as he finally lowered his gun. “How do Captain Wilson and I know you’re not planning on taking the package and then trying to kill us?”

Klink raised his eyebrows, wondering what kind of stupid question that was. “With what weapon? I am unarmed, _Herr_ Major. And even if I tried to attack either you or Captain Wilson to take your gun, I am certain that whoever I was not focused on would simply shoot me in the back. Besides that, Robert would be quite upset if I did something so idiotic. He has become quite fond of me, it seems,” he replied, trying to convey how ridiculous the idea of him jumping two armed men by himself was.

Wilson admitted the German general had a point, but he still wasn’t convinced. “Fond of **you**? Are you sure you’re talking about General Hogan?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes, I am sure. But _Herr_ Captain, I have been gone from my quarters too long already. I promised that I would return shortly with whatever this package is. And I need to bring Robert said package that you have for him before he does something utterly foolish, like brave this cold weather when he is feeling ill to find out where I went. So we can do this one of three ways,” Klink ground out, quickly losing his patience with the paranoid pair.

“Number one: I can prove to you that I am not lying by describing Robert’s looks and his personality to you. Number two: I can take you to see him. However, he has been frequently alternating between continuously throwing up and resting so his body can fight off the bug. So there is a good chance you may become ill if you go that route,” the tall German explained.

“Number three: you can shoot me dead where I stand and find him yourself, but he will be very angry with you if you do. The choice is yours. I do not have all night to play games, gentlemen. I have a sick American to tend to, and I am wasting time arguing with you when I should be watching over Robert,” Klink finished.

The former _Kommandant_ finally allowed himself to sound frustrated, all while he hoped that they wouldn’t pick the last one. “I would ask that you do me the courtesy of telling me first if you decide to shoot me, however. It only seems like the sporting thing to do.”

“Wow. You’ve got a whole lot of confidence in yourself, don’t you, General?” The major asked as he looked at his subordinate again. This time it was the captain’s turn to shrug. "Fine, General Klink. If you really know Hogan, tell us what he looks like and at least two things he's known for in the military." 

The older man glanced at the sky, praying for the patience to handle his current situation. "It is not confidence when I know what I say is completely true. And I am not sure what he is known for in your military, exactly. Nonetheless, I can tell you what he is known for in my camp. Or in my former camp, I should say," Klink responded.

Johnson nodded, wondering what the tall German was going to say next. "Okay, go for it."

“First of all, Robert Hogan is the same height as I am. He has white skin with a slight tan to it and black hair, with a piece that always rests on his forehead. He also has dark brown eyes where mischief seems to permanently reside. He tends to slouch often, and he wears his crush cap further back on his head than regulations allow, I am sure,” Klink began.

"He is my personal pain in the behind, that is true. But in addition to that, he is insolent and stubborn. He gives lazy gestures that barely qualify as salutes, bucks authority at every turn, makes impossible plans that should have no chance of working but always do somehow, and he likes to live on the edge," the German added.

"He is also possibly insane in the way he prefers to do things and run his command. And...and I will guard that oversized boy in a man’s body with my life, so long as he will allow me to be a part of it,” Klink said wearily.

After a brief silence, surprised laughter was heard from both American officers. "Yeah, he definitely knows Hogan," Johnson said, still chuckling. "He's legit. Captain Wilson, give General Klink the package."

"I get that feeling too," said Wilson with a half-smile as he handed Klink a large envelope. "Give that to the general, and please tell him we said to get well soon."

Klink nodded and accepted the envelope, which was addressed to:

_General Robert E. Hogan_

_U.S. Army Air Force_

_Stalag 13_

_Germany_

_Re: **OUSH_

"Of course, Captain Wilson. I will pass along both of your well-wishes. _Danke_ , _Herr_ Major and _Herr_ Captain, for your time," the German officer replied, relieved that they hadn’t decided to shoot him in the end.

"You're welcome, General," said the captain as he offered a salute. "You're not like any German I've ever met before."

"Yeah, most of 'em try to give us all of that damn 'Heil Hitler' crap at some point," added the major as he too gave a salute. “Either that, or they all try to claim they never did a thing wrong,” he added in a sour tone.

Klink made a disgusted face as he returned both salutes. "Please, do not talk to me about – what did Robert call him? – 'Ol' Scramble Brains'. Or maybe it was 'that nut in Berlin'. Either way, good riddance to that madman," he finished.

"Couldn't agree with you more, General Klink," said Johnson with a grin, warming up to the older general despite himself.

“I have done many things that were not right in my life, both in World War One and in this war as well. But one thing I have never done is become a follower of the insane Austrian. Many other Germans feel as I do, and even some that followed him did not do so out of loyalty to him and his ideas. They only did it out of fear or because their loved ones were being threatened in some way, which I am sorry to say has been quite common here for the last twelve years,” Klink said.

“You must understand that by 1939, membership in the Party was mandatory for everyone. I have been a member of the _Luftwaffe_ for many years, so I and a small group of others like myself were exempt from joining it. That is something which I thank God for every day,” Klink added.

“Hitler wove a terrible spell over my country with only his words, a spell that I am ashamed to say that we have only now snapped out of after his death. He promised us the world, to restore Germany’s honor. And like utter fools, we all fell for it. Now we are paying the price for that foolishness. Just something to consider if you talk to any more of my comrades,” the _Luftwaffe_ general finished with a small nod.

“That’s good to know,” murmured Wilson thoughtfully, filing that information away for later. Up until now he’d thought that every German here had willingly become a Nazi, only trying to save themselves and backtrack now that they’d lost. “You take care now, and goodbye."

"Yeah, have a nice night, General. And goodbye," added Johnson, already suspecting something of that nature at this point, but still glad to have it confirmed. The major hadn’t known some of that information, and it would help influence how he saw things in the future.

"And the same to both of you. Major Johnson. Captain Wilson," replied Klink as he nodded at each man in turn. He waited until they had both boarded one of the planes and taken off before returning to his quarters, envelope in hand. As walked, it occurred to him that both pilots had gotten into one plane and left the other one behind. _I will ask Robert about it when I get back,_ the tall German decided.

**_ A long-awaited package… _ **

“That had better be you, _Kommandant_. If it’s not, heads are going to fucking roll,” Hogan vowed as the he heard the door open and close. He’d been waiting for what seemed like forever and had only grown more tense by the minute. “I’m not trying to quote Major Hochstetter here, but in this case that saying applies.”

“Indeed it is, and watch your mouth, Robert,” Klink admonished him as he entered the room.

“Sorry,” Hogan said, sounding anything but that. “What took you so long? It’s been ages since you left!” he said, his tone a mix of anger and concern. “I was about to drag myself out there and chew out whoever was here for keeping you!”

Raising his eyebrows, Klink removed the American’s bomber jacket and crush cap before placing them on the chair. “Given the warning that I gave you before I went to pick up your delivery, that would have been a most unwise decision for you, Robert. And what if they had outranked you, hmmm? What then?” he asked.”

Scoffing, his troublemaker replied, “You think I care about that? I’ve made a long and illustrious career out of doing the unexpected, and it’s worked so far,” he pointed out. “So what happened?”

“I was in the middle of some tense negotiations, as the officers seemed to take issue with me at first,” Klink said dryly.

Going into the bathroom to change, he recapped the entire meeting for his brat and ended with, “But the strangest thing is that they arrived in two planes, yet they only left in one.” Gazing at the younger man, he asked, “Would you happen to know anything about that, Robert?”

“Who, me?” Hogan questioned, blinking and looking perfectly innocent.

“Yes, you,” the older man said with a shake of his head. “Does it look as if I have any other brats around here?” he teased.

“You’d better not,” Hogan growled, his voice low in his throat. “I never learned to share, and I’ve gotten used to hogging all your attention.”

“Possessive much, Robert?” Klink asked with a chuckle.

“You bet,” Hogan confirmed with a nod, unwilling to admit just how much more possessive he’d like to be when it came to Wilhelm Klink. “It comes with the whole ‘alpha male’ thing, you know.”

“Why am I not surprised at that answer?” Klink asked in resignation.

“Because you know me too well,” his troublemaker said cheerfully.

“That is true,” the German general allowed. “So, about the plane they left behind…” he prodded, wanting an answer to that.

“I might know…or I might not,” Hogan said slowly as a mischievous smile crossed his face. “But I can’t tell you about it right now. It’s past my bedtime, and my _Kommandant_ gets pretty mad when I don’t listen to him. He calls me terrible things like ‘insufferable’ and ‘impossible’, you know,” he added in a stage whisper.

“Anyway, have you ever tried to sneak out of this place to do anything? It’s the toughest POW camp in all of Germany! Stalag 13 is the only place in the world where prisoners break in instead of breaking out,” the former senior POW officer finished, laughter dancing in his brown eyes.

“You **are** impossible, Robert,” Klink pointed out, unable to prevent a half smile from appearing. The fact that Hogan called him ‘his _Kommandant_ ’ caused a funny feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t going to address.

“And you are right, it **is** past your bedtime. But tell me anyway,” the tall German suggested playfully. “I do not think your _Kommandant_ will mind just this once if you break the rules.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. He’d have a cow if he knew. He might have the whole herd,” Hogan said in a playful tone. He looked left and then right, as if looking for something. “But I guess I can tell you all about it. For a price, of course.”

“A price, Robert?” older man replied, wondering what Hogan wanted now.

Nodding, his brat said, “Yup. If you tuck me in, I’ll tell you what you want to know. That’s the deal,” he teased.

With a sigh and another shake of his head, Klink stood up and walked toward the door. “I would love to, but you are still being punished. I will have to wait and find out, I suppose.”

_Even though I do not want to,_ the former _Kommandant_ thought. _I would prefer to let you win, but that would set a bad precedent._ “Do you want the door open again or not, Robert?”

“Open, if you wouldn’t mind,” the American general said, disappointed that his plan hadn’t worked. _But tomorrow…now **that’s** gonna be fun! _he consoled himself. “Good night, General Klink.”

_“Gute nacht,_ Robert,” came the soft reply as footsteps faded away. The last thing Hogan thought of before falling asleep was that tomorrow, life was about to become more interesting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: You can find recipes for** **_Kaese Spaetzle_** **/cheese noodles on Google.**
> 
> **Harry S. Truman was the president of the United States from April 12, 1945 – January 20, 1953. He took office after Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) died of an intracerebral hemorrhage. (An intracerebral hemorrhage is when your brain starts bleeding.)**
> 
> ****OUSH stands for ‘Operation Unsung Heroes’.**


	13. A Very Special Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two officers are leaving Stalag 13 at last, with a few surprises along the way! :) Klink also gets to meet someone very important, but how will he react to it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Mein Gott, das ist einfach unglaublich_ = My God, this is simply unbelievable  
>  _Reichsmarshall_ = Marshall of the Reich, Hermann Göring’s title  
>  _Wunderbar_ = Wonderful  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Jerry_ = British slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans  
>  _Achtung!_ = Attention!  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Jawohl_ =Yes sir  
>  _Auf Wiedersehen_ = Goodbye

**_ Finally leaving Stalag 13… _ **

Like the day before, Hogan had been woken up by Klink at 0400 hours (4:00am). Also like the day before, he was grumpy about it. Even though his unusual ‘punishment’ was over with as of yesterday, there had been packing to do…and they had needed an early start to do it. It wouldn’t be good if anything should get accidentally left behind!

It was now 0700 hours (7:00am), and they were **finally** almost ready to go. After they’d polished off the last of the food and coffee, Hogan had handed Klink the envelope that the older man brought back the night before.

“Go on, look inside it,” Hogan said.

“Me? But it is addressed to you,” Klink replied with a frown.

“Yeah, but everything inside of it is for **you** ,” Hogan insisted, stressing the word ‘you’. “Come on, sir. I want to see your reaction,” he urged.

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Klink took the envelope and opened it. In a rare physical gesture, the German officer’s jaw actually dropped open and he put his hand over his mouth in surprise. Said surprise was caused by reading one of the six papers inside of the envelope. The main one in question had the embossed seal of the United States of America at the very top, and it read:

_To Whom It Might Concern:_

_The bearer of this note is a Generalmajor (which is the German equivalent of a one-star general) in the Luftwaffe. In case the picture stapled to this paper is either lost or removed forcibly, here are some basic stats about the aforementioned individual:_

_Full name: Wilhelm Friederich Klink_

_Height: 5 feet, 10 inches (178 centimeters)_

_Weight: 180 lbs (81 kilograms)_

_Hair color: Bald on top, with the other half being dark gray_

_Eye color: Light blue_

_Identifying marks or scars: A long & thin scar across the right side of his ribs_

_Ethnicity: Caucasian_

_Nationality: German_

_Languages spoken: German and English_

_Other: Wears a monocle in his left eye as a vision aid_

_Let it be known that General Klink is **a recognized friend and ally** of the United States Armed Forces, as well as the Allied Forces overall. As such, he is to be offered all of the same respect and courtesies that would be shown any other officer of his rank in the Allied Forces. It should also be noted that his security clearance is rated as ‘top secret’._

_I have personally vouched for General Klink, as well as had it confirmed and acknowledged by the Allied High Command. Should any kind of harm befall him due to uncalled-for misplaced hostilities, the consequences will be just as severe as if any other officer of his rank had suffered such an insult._

_If there are any concerns about the authenticity of this letter, please contact me directly at the phone number and/or address below. If for some reason I am not available at that time, you may leave a message with any of the other departments below. I will be informed immediately of any such calls, and they will be given priority one attention._

_Sincerely,_

_Brigadier General Robert E. Hogan, United States Army Air Force_

Hogan had hand-signed the letter in his flowing but messy handwriting between the lines ‘sincerely’ and the one with his name. And words ‘a recognized friend and ally’ were underlined **three** times! The remainder of the paper that didn’t have the message – which was about half of it – had a long list of names, addresses and departments that the American general was directly connected to.

To top it all off, almost every officer on the paper was of some sort of general rank. Out of the six different people listed, only two of them were colonels. Each area also had its individual department seal beside it as well, and there was a current picture of Klink stapled to the paper. He wasn’t wearing his uniform cap in the picture, but that had been done on purpose.

_“_ _Mein Gott, das ist einfach unglaublich,_ _”_ said Klink breathlessly, forgetting his ability to speak English momentarily as his hands shook slightly. Not that it mattered that much, since Hogan could understand him just fine.

“I **told** you I had to wait for that package, sir,” said Hogan, looking as smug as could be when he spoke. “There’s two other copies of that letter in there as well, one in Russian and one in French. Not everyone in those countries speaks English, as I’m sure you already know. And even if they did, they might not necessarily be able to read it.”

The younger man gazed at the German general with glee, looking like his birthday had come early as he continued on. “Oh, and there’s another letter in there too that you should keep safe as well. That one is only for when you wear the American uniform…like you will later on, for example.”

Hogan was very much enjoying the stunned look on Klink’s face, and it was difficult not to laugh as he kept talking. “It says basically the same thing, but it also says that you’re an honorary general in the United States Army Air Force – **only** honorary, so don’t freak out – and have been okayed to wear that uniform. I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to be accused of stolen valor…just a feeling, mind you. And yes, that letter has a copy in French and in Russian as well. Just thought I’d cover all of my bases,” he finished, still looking utterly smug.

Meanwhile, Klink was busy taking several deep breaths as he tried to center himself in reality again. He’d still heard everything his troublemaker had just said, but he was once again blown away by Hogan’s thoughtfulness and attention to detail. “I...what…how did you get that picture of me?” he asked shakily. “I am not wearing my hat in it, and normally I would be,” he added, somehow managing to focus on the most trivial item first.

“My personal photographer, Sergeant Carter,” Hogan responded. “He wanted you to be wearing your hat in the picture, but Newkirk disagreed with him. He pointed out – and correctly so – that if you were wearing a colonel’s hat in a letter saying you were a general, it might cause some unnecessary confusion.”

“Oh.” _That makes sense,_ Klink thought, having composed himself by now as he asked his next question. “But just why am I going to be wearing an American uniform later on, Hogan?” He motioned to the few boxes around him of both his things and those of his former senior POW officer.

“I do not even know where I am going to put all of this when I leave here. I do not know where I going to live when I leave here either. For that matter, I do not even know where we are **going**!” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I also do not know where you found out any of the information that you did, although I can probably guess the answer to that question,” he said with a sigh.

Hogan raised his eyebrows as he stated, “Personnel files are a two-way street, _Kommandant_. It told me all I needed to know. I sent London the message telling them exactly how I wanted the letter worded, and they made it up for me. I just signed the letter when it got here.”

With a shrug, he said, “Everything’s staying right here until we figure that part out, and so is my stuff. Nobody will mess with it, I promise. Privileges of rank and all,” he added as he tossed a cheeky wink at the older man. The only part of that statement that was true was the part about rank, while the rest of it was a complete – but temporary – lie. The few boxes they had were to be sent ahead of them somewhere else. But that revelation would come a lot later on.

“And we’ll both figure out where we’re going to live eventually, but right now we’ve got things to do. So…ready to go, General?” asked Hogan as he stood up and stretched. He looked forward to a warm shower later on, but he’d still kind of miss Stalag 13 in a way. Naturally, he was in full dress uniform for the occasion, and his new badge of rank gleamed on his shoulders.

“I am,” Klink replied as he rose and smoothed out the pants of his uniform again. He was going to be wearing his _Luftwaffe_ general’s uniform for the first time today in public, and the German was equal parts happy and nervous about that. He was happy because he’d get to show it off, but he was nervous since it hadn’t been ‘officially’ bought from a uniform store. Corporal Newkirk had done an amazing job making it, of that there was no doubt. Yet there was still a part of Klink that insisted everyone would see it and know that it was a fake.

“Well, let’s do it,” said Hogan, hoisting the small duffel containing Klink’s American dress uniform, Hogan’s normal uniform and their few civilian clothes onto his shoulder. “The world awaits us,” he added as he opened the door to Klink’s quarters. “After you, sir.”

“ _Danke,_ General Hogan,” said Klink as he stepped outside. Despite the formal way of address, there was a smile on his face.

“You’re welcome, General Klink,” Hogan responded with a smile but just as formally as he closed the door for the final time. “It’s my pleasure, believe me,” he said as he walked down the steps, heading for their ride.

“Somehow I actually believe that, Hogan,” Klink replied as he followed suit. He still didn’t know what was going to happen next, but his brat obviously had it handled. He would learn to adapt to Hogan’s strange ways, because fighting against it was always a losing battle. And anyway, the arguments were mostly for show. _It would not be prudent to let my brat win easily at anything even if I wanted to,_ Klink thought as he walked along. _We would both become bored quickly. He enjoys the thrill of the game, and so do I._

**_ Back in the air again… _ **

“You know, I’ve been giving something a lot of thought in the past three days, _Kommandant_ ,” began Hogan conversationally. He was walking across the compound a little slower than he normally would, due to his butt still throbbing somewhat. Still, he was a lot better off than he’d been yesterday, at any rate!

The German officer’s gaze fell upon the American one, not surprised to hear that was the case for some reason. “What might that be?” he asked.

“Okay, so don’t take this the wrong way or anything,” Hogan said slowly, “but after I’m fully healed up, how would you feel about continuing our…well, you know…our nightly arrangement?” The past two nights had given him a lot to think about, as well as revealed to Hogan new layers he hadn’t known that he **had.**

It was a good thing that the two generals were walking side by side, because the mere question made Klink screech to a stop. If he hadn’t quickly been able to grab his troublemaker’s arm, he would have lost his balance from the sudden lack of movement. “Why?” inquired Klink suspiciously, wondering what trick was being played on him now. “That was only to make sure you kept your men in line. But the war is over, so the very point is moot now.”

“Because I’ve finally got the answer to the question you’ve asked me a few times,” Hogan said mysteriously.

“What question is that?” the older man asked, not particularly wanting to play games this early in the morning as they began walking again.

“You’ve asked me a few times if I enjoyed pain,” the younger general said. “The answer is yes. Well, **now** it’s yes. I didn’t used to, but now I do. Well, kind of,” he tried to explain, knowing that he was babbling and getting frustrated that he wasn’t saying this right.

“Look, if you’d asked me a year ago if I liked pain – any kind of pain, no matter what format it was in or the reason for it – the answer would have been an all-around ‘no’. But now I do, even if apparently it has to be caused by you to be enjoyable.” Hogan tried to clarify what he was talking about, but he wasn’t having much luck with it.

Hogan knew he was mangling his response thoroughly, but it was so hard to illustrate his meaning! “It’s not really the pain per se, but the emotional rush that goes with it that I enjoy. The feeling is like a drug to me. I…well, I really can’t simplify it any better than that. And like I said before, you’re the only one I’d ever trust to ever do that to me.”

Letting out a sigh, he added, “Besides, it’s been really effective in helping me clear my head at night to sleep, and it also helps to keep me focused during the daytime. We’ve had some really good conversations during those nights, haven’t we?” Hogan asked, absolutely positive he’d bungled that answer all to hell.

“That…would explain much,” murmured Klink slowly. He understood perfectly what his troublemaker was trying to tell him, even if it was the most roundabout explanation he’d ever heard. “I am honored by the level of trust you place in me, Hogan…and we **have** had some very good conversations,” he allowed. “But I just am not sure about continuing this. What happens when we finally go our separate ways? What then?” he asked.

“We can figure it out then, sir,” Hogan replied, not wanting to think about that right now. “The last three years as the leader of a sabotage ring have taught me not to plan too far ahead. I’m only asking you to continue this while we’re still spending time together. It’s not a long term commitment,” he pointed out.

“I mean, there might be times I ask you to dial it up on occasion, just for a change of pace. I’m not gonna lie about that, but those times would be more the exception than the rule. So…is that okay with you?” the younger man questioned as he came to a stop by the airplane from last night. He really hoped Klink would say yes, because he hadn’t thought of what he’d do if the answer was no.

The German general was silent for a moment as he thought that question over. Could he do that for Hogan, or would it bother him too much? It was a good question, and one that bore giving some thought to. Yet he admired that the former senior POW officer had openly asked for such a thing, rather than antagonizing him into doing it against his will. “I appreciate your honesty, my brat…so I suppose,” he said, shaking his head in bafflement as he too stopped near the airplane.

**“YES!”** the American cheered with a fist pump as he gave Klink a happy smile. “Thank you so much!” He was fighting the urge to give his self-appointed disciplinarian a hug, but thankfully he squashed it down.

By this point in time, Hogan was only surprised that he hadn’t been committed to the loony bin yet for finally losing his marbles. And both his voice of reason and his common sense had gone oddly silent on the matter. Was that bad? Probably, but he didn’t care.

“You are most welcome…I think,” Klink said in an amused tone of voice. He pointed up at the plane and asked, “So why is there a plane here? You said last night you would tell me,” he pointed out.

In a noncommittal voice, Hogan replied, “Oh, that? That’s our ride, unless you’ve figured out how to sprout wings and fly without one.” He walked up the ramp slowly and opened the door as he asked, “Sir, are you coming or what?”

“Obviously,” Klink said dryly as he followed Hogan. “So where is the pilot?”

“I think he’s nearby. My guess is that he’s probably inside the cockpit waiting for us,” remarked Hogan as he disappeared into the plane.

“I hope so,” muttered Klink as he too entered the plane and shut the door. He felt a twinge of nostalgia hit him, remembering the last time he’d been a pilot and flown his Heinkel bomber. Unfortunately for him, once he’d damaged his left eye he had been grounded forever. A bomber pilot had to have perfect sight, and visual aids were not something that was acceptable for them to need. “Is the pilot in here?” he called out.

“Yeah, in the cockpit!” Hogan yelled back. “Come on in here, he wants you to see it. It’s beautiful!”

Smiling at the endless miracles the American general seemed to have up his sleeve, the German officer made his way to the front of the plane. He found Hogan sitting in the co-pilot’s seat and nodded to himself. _Of course Hogan would be the co-pilot,_ Klink thought. _I am sure he has missed flying terribly since he was shot down._

“Where is the pilot? I thought you said he wanted me to see the cockpit,” the older general said in a confused voice.

“He did, and he still does,” his troublemaker said cryptically, motioning to the controls. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he asked, referring to the plane itself.

“Yes, she is,” Klink admitted as another wave of nostalgia hit him. “But I do not see him anywhere! Where did he go?” he questioned as a frown crossed his face. He wanted to leave Stalag 13 behind, yet Hogan was busy playing games as usual.

“Are you **sure** you don’t see him anywhere, sir? Try looking out that window to your left. Maybe he’s outside having a cigarette,” Hogan suggested with a grin.

With a sigh, the German replied, “All I see is you, Hogan. But I will look out the window anyway.” He looked out the window to his left, but still saw no one. “Wait, do not tell me. Let me guess… **you** are flying the plane?” he asked wryly.

“I know we are both capable pilots – well, I **was** until my injury happened, while I suppose that you still are – but if you are indeed to be the pilot, then you are aware that is the wrong seat, correct? I know it has been a few years for you, but I should think that you would remember that much, Hogan,” he admonished lightly.

Hogan just shook his head in reply. The window was highly reflective…but either Klink hadn’t seen his reflection in it, or he didn’t understand what seeing it meant. Either way, he needed to explain what he meant. “Close, but no cigar. It’s not me, and I’m in the right seat for the co-pilot.” He flashed the former _Kommandant_ his familiar, mischievous grin. “ **You’re** the pilot, sir. So, are you gonna get this thing in the air or what?” he asked.

“I…what?” Klink looked at his brat like he’d lost his mind. “I cannot fly a plane! Are you mad, Hogan?” Klink demanded as he sank into the seat. “A pilot needs perfect vison to fly, and this,” he said as he tapped his monocle, “does not fit the bill. Now stop horsing around and switch seats with me.” _Fly a plane again indeed! To tease me in such a way is just cruel._

The American officer let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not kidding around! A **bomber** pilot needs perfect vision to fly, because they fly in groups and have to make sure they can hit a particular target. We’re flying by ourselves, and we’re not bombing anything. Besides, some of the people who fly civilian planes wear glasses.”

Hogan did his best to make Klink understand what he was saying. “And we’re not going that far, just to Luxembourg,” he said convincingly. “Plus, you’ve said before that you miss flying your Heinkel,” he pointed out.

“Well, yes,” Klink agreed. He wanted to accept this chance quite badly, but he also wanted to not get them killed in a fiery crash equally as badly. One near-deadly crash in his lifetime was more than enough for him. He wasn’t counting the incident with the Blue Baron. All things considered, that had been almost as safe a crash landing as you could get.

“But this is hardly a Heinkel, Hogan. As you said previously, we are not bombing anything. I do not even know the controls for this model of plane, and I would rather not get us killed,” Klink pointed out, annoyed that his troublemaker was digging in his heels as usual.

“But **I** know the controls, and I can tell you how to work them,” Hogan argued stubbornly, not elaborating on how he knew them when this model of plane had just come out last year. “I’m literally **right here** if you need me, no matter what the reason is. Come onnnnn, doesn’t the Iron Eagle want to take to the skies again and spread his wings?” he wheedled sweetly.

“I’m not going to be able to give you this chance ever again, and I just thought you might want your **real** last flight to be a pleasant memory. You know, instead of remembering it as the day you were grounded forever!” Hogan snapped as he folded his arms and huffed in annoyance. “I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if I even thought you’d get us killed, sir. I might be completely nuts, but I’m not suicidal.” _Man, there are some people you just can’t do a favor for, even when you gift-wrap it with a fucking bow,_ he thought irritably.

After mulling those words over for a few minutes, the tall German rolled his eyes and let out a weary sigh. He already knew that he had as good as lost this argument. _Hogan is the most stubborn, thick-headed man on the planet._

“If I do this – and that is a big ‘if’ at the moment – do you promise to take over the controls quickly if I need you to do so? **Without** arguing with me about it?” Klink inquired. “Because if I have to ask you for assistance, we will not have time for any of your grandstanding, Hogan.”

“Yes. You have my word as an officer and a gentleman that I won’t argue with you about it, should you need me,” the younger general responded as he looked at the coordinates he’d written down. “So, is that a yes then?” he asked in a hopeful tone of voice.

“Indeed it is,” confirmed Klink as a grin lit up his features. “And…and thank you for your kind gesture, Hogan. It means a lot to me,” he added as he sat properly in the pilot’s seat and strapped himself in. He was thrilled, because he had the chance to fly again! Not merely be the navigator as he had been before with his troublemaker, but actually **fly**!

The thought alone was extremely touching, and he wondered what had made Hogan offer him this opportunity. “Although I am not sure why you did not take the chance to fly again for yourself instead, but that is a story for another time. For now, I need you to strap yourself in, Hogan. And then I need you to explain the controls to me.”

“I’ll have my turn another time. This is your moment to shine,” was all the former senior POW officer said in response. As he made sure everything holding him in place was secure, he could only grin like a fool. Co-pilot or not, he loved having control of an airplane. Hell, he loved merely **being** in an airplane. “Ready when you are, sir…and this is what you need to do.”

After explaining the controls to Klink – which the German general found out really didn’t differ that much from the Heinkel ones – Hogan sat back and glanced at his coordinates. Then he made sure he had them correct before reeling off the basic ones to Klink. He was keeping a careful eye on his _Kommandant_ , making sure that he wasn’t going to freak out or do something else that would make life interesting.

The American remembered that the Blue Baron had gotten his leg broken when he flew with Klink, but to be fair the Blue Baron was also a stick-in-the-mud type of person. _No sense of adventure, that’s what his problem is,_ Hogan thought with a smirk. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be a need for concern so far today.

As Klink turned on the plane, the sound of the motor kicking over gave both flyers a giddy thrill. The feeling of freedom that came from flying called to both of them like a siren song, and so it also gave both officers a familiar adrenaline rush. Old training habits kicked in as both of them looked over their control panels for any problems, with Klink also checking the fuel gage as well.

“I am going to assume this is what you meant when you said, ‘the pilot wants you to see the cockpit’, correct?” Klink asked, wondering if he’d pegged Hogan correctly. “And what is in Luxembourg anyhow?” he inquired as he began to move the plane forward.

“You got it in one, and that’s where our next stop is,” Hogan replied evenly as he alternated watching his control panel and out the windshield. Normally he would have been jealous that his first time flying in an airplane as a free man didn’t end with him flying it, but this was Klink’s moment right now.

Hogan was a career officer, and he felt sure there would be plenty of opportunities for him to soar among the clouds in the future. And anyway, how could he possibly begrudge a fellow flyer his last flight?

“I was able to deduce that much for myself, troublemaker,” Klink said offhandedly, his tone a focused one as he taxied the plane. “But what I would like to know is what we are going there to do.” The foreign controls felt strange, yet familiar to him as his old skills began to kick in and help out. It’d been several years since he’d been at the helm, but honed instincts never withered away.

Shaking his head, his brat replied, “You’ll find out when we get there…which should be in about two and a half hours from now, as long as we get a good tailwind.” The nose of the plane was pointed in the direction they needed to go at this point, and Hogan could feel the huge grin on his face. They were picking up speed quickly as they hurtled down the runway, preparing for the inevitable takeoff.

“You are an insane, impossible brat,” the tall German remarked in a teasing tone. He handled the controls masterfully, showing Hogan the true reason that his classmates had called him ‘the Iron Eagle’.

“Yeah, but you gotta love me anyway,” the American said playfully. He was watching to make sure he wasn’t going to have to take over the controls at some point, but as of right now it appeared highly unlikely.

The younger man knew just by watching Klink that he must’ve been a formidable opponent when he flew with his squadron, and he was considerably glad that they’d never been pitted against each other in battle like that. _Mostly because_ _I really don’t know if I could win an aerial dogfight against Klink,_ Hogan admitted to himself.

Outside the windshield, everything moved faster and faster until it became a blur. With a expression of pure happiness on his face, Klink skillfully pulled the joystick back at just the right moment. That small motion caused the nose of the plane to point upward…and then they took off, the ground quickly dropping away below them.

A whoop of utter joy was heard as his co-pilot yelled out, “Whoo-hoo!” While Hogan himself could handle a plane the same way he handled a woman – which was like a pro – he’d rarely seen anyone else who could match his abilities.

It occurred to him that it was a shame Klink would never fly again after today, because this right here was where his talents seemed to lie. Still, he was happy to know he’d made this happen for the former _Kommandant_.

“That was **awesome!** What a rush!” Hogan said excitedly. “I’m telling you, I’ve missed doing this in a big way,” he admitted. “But that was a really smooth takeoff. You sure you haven’t been fibbing to me about being grounded all this time?” the former senior POW officer teased.

“I could say the same thing, but you already expressed it so eloquently,” the older man said playfully. “And quite sure, I regret to say.” After glancing at his control panel and fuel gage again to make sure there weren’t any problems, he added, “Now that we are airborne, give me further coordinates.”

And Hogan did. The two generals continued to talk nonstop for the entire ride, sometimes almost talking over each other. They laughed and shared stories of flight maneuvers – among many, many other things – that they’d done as well, and neither one of them paused for breath until after Klink had successfully landed the plane in Luxembourg.

**_ On the road again… _ **

“I’ve gotta say, you’re a really skilled pilot. I’ve only ever met a few others that could match me,” said Hogan as they exited the plane.

With an eye roll, Klink asked, “Conceited much, Hogan?”

“It’s not conceited when everyone who’s ever ridden with me tells me so,” Hogan shot back.

“And once again, your own reflection does not count as everyone, Hogan,” Klink quipped as he followed his brat to a nearby vehicle. It was an olive drab color, with the letters ‘U.S.A.’ on the door above a star inside of a circle.

The vehicle looked pretty sturdy, like it could handle the road well. The only problem was that it was missing the doors! And yet Hogan was getting into the driver’s seat as if that was perfectly normal.

“I do not wish to point out the obvious, Hogan,” Klink said slowly, wondering what he was missing this time. “But I believe this vehicle is broken, as there are no doors on it. Perhaps we can find one that is not,” he suggested.

The American was about to say something to the insult Klink had tossed his way…until the German spoke again and he burst into laughter instead. “It’s not broken, sir,” he chuckled. “It’s a Jeep. They’re standard military issue for the US Armed Forces. Broken,” he repeated with a shake of his head. “You’re hilarious. Haven’t you ever seen a Jeep before?”

“Yes I have, Hogan,” Klink shot back in an annoyed voice. “And they do not look like that!” His tone was haughty as he gave the younger general a glare. “Generally, a vehicle has doors on it!”

After he stopped laughing, Hogan rolled his eyes. “It’s an **American** Jeep, _Kommandant_. They don’t have doors, although I’m not sure why. But what I don’t know is why any of them would be in this area at all, unless our boys imported them for the Allies to use here. Which would make sense, now that I think about it,” he said thoughtfully. “Either way, it’s what was left for us to use,” Hogan added as he patted the seat beside him. “Get in.”

“But you have no keys to start it up, troublemaker. And you need keys to drive a vehicle,” the German officer responded as he got into the vehicle. “So, does that mean that we are – one moment, I know this term in English – cargrabbing?” he inquired. The body of the Jeep reminded Klink of a large square with part of the sides cut off of it.. “I believe that cargrabbing is still a crime, no matter where you go,” he said, feeling the need to state the obvious.

“Carjacking. The word is ‘carjacking’, sir,” replied Hogan with a chuckle. “And no, we’re not carjacking anything. I’ve got the keys in my pocket,” he replied as he pulled them out for Klink to see. “They were in the envelope I got last night. I just pulled them out before I handed it to you to look at,” the American officer added as he checked his mirrors.

“Hmmph,” Klink grumbled as something crossed his mind. “How do we keep from falling out of the Jeep – that has no doors, which is a ridiculous design – since you are so smart today?” he demanded.

“Just hold onto that bar above your head,” Hogan replied, starting up the vehicle. “And hold on good, because I drive really fast.”

**_ Visiting Camp Ashcan… _ **

An hour later. they pulled up to a luxury hotel named the ‘Palace Hotel’. Or rather, it had **been** a luxury hotel. Now it had a fifteen-foot high barbed wire fence around it and guard towers with machine guns. The fence looked like it was electrified as well, but neither one of the officers was willing to personally verify that. After Hogan had parked the Jeep, the two generals got out of the car and headed toward the main gate.

“Hogan, you are never driving me anywhere again,” Klink declared firmly. “You are a terrible, reckless driver! And I thought Sergeant Schultz was bad,” he added as an afterthought as he looked out ahead of him. “Why are we here, by the way? We just **left** a prison camp, and I would like to point out that ours was much nicer.”

“What’re you talking about? I’m a perfectly good driver, I’ll have you know!” Hogan said indignantly as he looked up at the guard towers instead. “Man, and I thought Stalag 13 was bad,” he complained. “I guess it really was a resort after all, at least compared to this.”

“You almost hit three different cars on the way here!” Klink exclaimed as they neared the gate. He was wondering just how badly people drove in the United States, if indeed his troublemaker was an example of what constituted a ‘good driver’. “And you know that normally I would disagree with you about that, but in this case I cannot do so,” he muttered.

“Please, I had plenty of room,” Hogan scoffed. “And by the way…if this is what passes for a luxury hotel around here, I don’t think I want to see the cheap ones.” His eyes searched the perimeter, taking in every detail. “Holy cow, they must be really paranoid.”

“Hogan, only allowing six inches between you and another car – when you are shifting lanes, I might add – does not count as ‘plenty of room’, no matter what language you are speaking in,” Klink said in exasperation. “From now on, I will do the driving,” he stated as he eyed the barbed wire. “And once again, why are we here?”

“That move is called ‘the Oreo cookie’ back home, and we can talk about it later,” said Hogan distractedly, seeing someone dressed in blue running towards them quickly. “And you’ll see in a few minutes. Just keep quiet and follow my lead, _Kommandant_. These guys look like they’re a trigger-happy bunch,” he said under his breath.

“Stop righ’ there!” a British voice yelled, causing them both to freeze in place so they wouldn’t get shot.

The voice belonged to a young sergeant, who sized both of them up quickly before snapping to attention and saluting sharply. “Oh, my apologies…sirs,” the enlisted man said hastily, looking from Hogan to Klink and back again as if unsure which of them to address. “Can I ‘elp you, General…”

“Hogan. I’m General Robert Hogan, of the United States Army Air Force,” his troublemaker said confidently, returning the salute and taking a step forward to show that he was the one in charge. Klink also returned the salute – once he’d reluctantly received one, anyway – but he wisely kept his mouth shut for once. He had seen the dirty look that he’d gotten as soon the stranger had gotten a good look at his uniform, and he had no desire to start a fight with someone who was armed.

“And this is my good friend, General Wilhelm Klink of the _Luftwaffe_.” Hogan leaned in and added in a stage whisper, “We made a prior reservation at this hotel, you know.” Straightening up again, he added, “We’ve got a meeting in about,” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes, so we need to get inside and to the meeting room. Anyway, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Monihan, sir. Sergeant Alexander Monihan, of the Royal Air Force,” he replied with a sharp nod to the younger general. The corners of Monihan’s mouth twitched slightly after Hogan’s causal comment as if he wanted to smile, but he resisted the urge to do so. “Of course, General Hogan, but –” He cut himself off, clearly torn between wanting to say something and not wanting to potentially anger a superior officer.

But Hogan only said, “At ease, Monihan. What’s on your mind?” He’d been around long enough to know that that look, but he hoped the young man wasn’t going to cause a problem for them. He’d gone to a lot of effort to make everything that had occurred so far happen, and he wasn’t going to be shown up by some young upstart!

But the sergeant was obviously still tense, even as he took the opportunity to speak freely. “Well, I…” He openly gave Klink another dirty look, clearly not happy about his presence here at all. Monihan obviously had no love for Germans, and his next words proved it without a shadow of a doubt. “General, wit’ all due respect…even if tha’ **is** your good friend – which is bloody crackers all on its own, mind you – we can’t jus’ let some _Jerry_ in ‘ere –”

**_“ACHTUNG!”_** Hogan barked loudly in German, interrupting the sergeant and startling him into silence. The American narrowed his eyes and growled out his next words, showing that he was in no mood for games. “Now you listen to me, Monihan, and you listen **good.** I’ve known General Klink for years, and he’s one of the most decent people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I’m not gonna order you to apologize to him, because neither him nor I need to hear that fake bullshit from you.”

Hogan was positively radiating ‘make my day’ vibes as he spoke, thoroughly pissed off at the blatant show of disrespect. Especially to someone he honestly considered a friend! “But I’m going to ask you a question, and all I want from you is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. And after I am done talking to you, you are going to escort both General Klink and I into the meeting room we’ve already arranged to use. I don’t want any further attitude or disrespect from you…or so help me God, I’ll bust your ass down to private! Do I make myself clear, **Sergeant**?” he finished, glowering and stressing the British man’s rank to remind him just where he was on the totem pole.

Klink had to fight a smile when he heard the German command leave his brat’s lips, wondering if Hogan had been speaking his language subconsciously again or on purpose for the shock value. _I will ask him about later on,_ he decided. Either way, after seeing that display he was very glad that he wasn’t Monihan right now!

“Y-yes, General Hogan!” Monihan stammered, snapping to attention and sharply saluting again.

“Much better,” said Hogan irritably, giving a quick nod and barely returning the salute. “Now, has General Burkhalter arrived yet?”

“Yes sir, General!” the sergeant confirmed. He was still standing at attention, but he didn’t appear willing to risk saying anything else.

Raising his eyebrows, Hogan snapped, “Well? Do you have memory loss now, as well as an attitude problem, Monihan?”

“No, of course not, General Hogan! Please, follow me General!” Monihan said quickly, saluting once more and waiting for Hogan to return it. Then he quickly spun on his heel and led them through the gates, saying absolutely nothing to either Klink or the still angry Hogan.

As Klink followed the two men, he had to admit he was impressed. He’d just seen firsthand the aura of command that Hogan could radiate when he wanted to…and he’d also seen a sample of why Hogan had already been a full colonel when they’d met, despite his youth.

Speaking of that, he needed to ask his troublemaker what he’d been talking when he’d said that _“he’d known General Klink for years”_ about later on. He knew Hogan probably meant all the time since he’d lived at Stalag 13, but the former senior POW officer had implied that Klink had been a general that entire time.

_Ah, the joys of implication and mind games,_ Klink thought. He also couldn’t help but think of Corporal Langenscheidt after the way Monihan had acted. He remembered giving the corporal an order on one occasion that had ended with Langenscheidt stammering out, _“*Yes, Herr Kommandant! *Certainly, Herr Kommandant! *Right away, Herr Kommandant!”_ as he’d left Klink’s office in a hurry.

After they had passed through a few doors, they were led to a solid grey-colored room. It had a table and four chairs in it, and General Burkhalter was already sitting in one of them waiting.

“As you requested, General Hogan,” the British sergeant said hesitantly as he came to attention for the third time since they’d met. “Can I do anythin’ else for you General?”

“Yes, Sergeant, you can,” the American general replied with false sweetness. Both Klink and Burkhalter shot him quizzical looks as he spoke, because they knew it wasn’t a tone the former senior POW officer usually used. In Klink’s case, he was pretty sure the next words his troublemaker said weren’t going to be as nice as his tone conveyed. Seconds later, he was proven to have guessed correctly about that.

“You can hurry up and go get our guest. And make sure you tell him to keep silent, because this is a surprise. Now, get the hell out of my sight!” Hogan added as his sweet tone abruptly switched to a curt one. After saluting everyone else and having it returned, Monihan turned and hurriedly left the room.

Both Hogan and Klink offered their own salutes to Burkhalter, who lazily returned them from where he sat. As the tall German sat down, he gave his brat a searching look. He was trying to figure out where any of what he’d just seen had come from, because it was unusual behavior from him. But before he could ask, Hogan suddenly burst out laughing.

“Oh my God! That was great, and it was fun too,” he chuckled as he turned to the fat Austrian and recapped everything that’d happened since they’d arrived here. “You should’ve seen his face, General Burkhalter. He looked like he was about to faint!”

“You did all that over **Klink**?” the fat general asked in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind, Hogan?”

“Probably, General. I’ve been asked that a few times before in my life,” said Hogan cheerfully as he shared a look with the former _Kommandant_. “But it had to be done, so I did it.”

“I disagree, Hogan.” Klink had found his voice at last, and he had something he needed to say. “I appreciate you standing up for me, Hogan. I really do. But you cannot just go around threatening to bust people down to private because they were mistrustful of me,” he pointed out in a reasonable tone. “Especially fellow members of the Allies!”

“Watch me,” Hogan said with a scowl, his tone becoming dangerous as the memory raised his hackles. “I’m not gonna let some fresh-faced **punk** act like that’s okay to do! And besides that, he was using a derogatory slur against you. If anyone disrespects you, they disrespect me. And they don’t want to disrespect me, not if they want to avoid a serious ass-chewing.”

He shrugged and added, “Channeling how I’ve heard you talk to your men during the war, as well as how Schultz used to get our attention sometimes helped. Overall, I’d say it was pretty effective too,” he remarked in an amused voice. It was then that Hogan recalled the whole discussion Newkirk, Carter and the fat sergeant had had one time over ‘the meaning of _achtung_ ’, which it caused his lips to curl up into a small smile.

Since he really couldn’t think of anything to say to that, Klink opted instead to share an exasperated look with his commanding officer. Honestly, he wasn’t going to argue about it. He’d only said something in the first place to actively make sure Hogan was aware of what he’d done, instead of letting him act on an impulse that could get him into trouble further down the road.

“If I did not know better, I would say that Hogan has…a rather large protective streak regarding you for some reason, Klink,” Burkhalter said calmly as he folded his hands over his large stomach. While the recent events had been amusing, he was a busy man. “Now, we need to get down to business. Klink, I am here primarily for your benefit. That means you should listen closely to what I have to say.”

He sighed before continuing to explain, wishing he didn’t have to be here right now with the monocle-wearing _dummkopf_. “I am here to inform you that our guest you will meet is the real thing, not an imposter.” He nodded towards Hogan, who shrugged casually. “Hogan has quite the talent for finding them, and I was asked was to confirm that much for you. I know him, so it was not too difficult to do.”

“ **Who?** Who are we talking about, _Herr_ General?” asked Klink in annoyance, not happy with those vague comments.

“You will see, Klink…but not at first,” chuckled the Austrian general good-naturedly. He was quite enjoying playing along with Hogan’s scheme – instead of being the victim of it for once – and his subordinate’s frustration only made it better.

“I…could you clarify that for me, sir?” Klink asked, a little confused about that comment and the resulting chuckle from the normally cantankerous officer.

“Yes, but I will not,” Burkhalter remarked. “You should also know that while my status as Nimrod is now declassified, it would not be a good idea to mention it. He does not know, and I would prefer to keep it that way,” he added cryptically.

The fat general tossed a blindfold to Hogan, who caught it out of the air easily. Then the American officer promptly told Klink, “I gotta put this on first, sir. It’s all part of the surprise, but I’ll take it off in a few minutes. Until then, just please sit there quietly and trust me.”

“I have done nothing **but** trust you lately, Hogan,” Kink pointed out as he cooperated with his brat. His vision soon went dark as the blindfold went on, and he wondered how long this would take as sat there. He didn’t have to wait for that long though…after a few minutes, he heard the door open. He could hear what sounded like several chains rattling as well.

Then he heard the scrape of a chair and the grunt of someone sitting down. He heard two quick raps on the table and a different British voice – thankfully not Monihan, because he was sure Hogan would have come unglued if it had been him again – say, “Like tha’ on the door when you’re done, General,” followed by his troublemaker saying, “Thanks, I got it.” Then he heard the door open and close again, followed complete silence. After what seemed like forever, he heard Hogan ask him, “You ready, sir?” and tap his shoulder to get Klink’s attention.

“Yes, yes. Just take this thing off of me,” Klink said with a weary sigh. After the American did it, Klink opened his eyes. Immediately he wished he hadn’t, not after he saw who had joined them. Now what Burkhalter had said earlier made perfect sense, so he was also glad that he was sitting down!

**_ Meeting the man of the hour… _ **

Sitting at the table in front of him, appearing to be a cross between frustrated and amused – and in full dress uniform to boot – was none other than _Reichsmarshall_ Hermann Göring himself! Or at least it was someone who looked like him. Klink glanced at the German officer in front of him quickly, taking in the wavy dark hair and piercing blue eyes. There were more medals on the stranger’s uniform than Klink had ever seen one person wear, and some of them were even from World War One!

The new arrival was a big man, about the same size as his Sergeant of the Guard but a few inches shorter. He had both legs chained to different legs of the table, and a long chain was keeping his left arm attached to it as well. Whoever had put them on had left his right hand free, presumably to salute. Everything together had a rather somber effect, and Klink wondered if this was some kind of sick joke. As the thought crossed his mind, he could only gawk and think, _If this is someone impersonating Göring, they are very good at it. They are also very detailed oriented._

Then he remembered what Burkhalter had said earlier about this person being ‘the real thing, not an imposter’, and the former _Kommandant_ went deathly pale. By the time it fully registered in his mind that this was no joke, he’d already leapt to his feet and caused the chair he’d been sitting in to fall over behind him. And he could only blame the propaganda he’d had drilled into him for over a decade for what happened next, because it wasn’t done by choice!

Klink snapped to attention, his boots making an audible clicking sound as he flung out a stiff Nazi salute and stammered hoarsely, “H-H-Heil Hitler!” He hated doing either one – and he really, **really** didn’t want to – but both the greeting and salute had become reflex for everyone over the last twelve years. It was just something they did automatically by now, unless they wanted to end up ‘missing’ and never heard from again.

If possible, the clumsy and startled reaction only caused Göring’s expression to settle on amused. His gaze was aimed at the older man, before quickly switching from him to Burkhalter, to Hogan, back to Klink, back to Hogan again and finally settling on Klink. “How are you today, _Herr_ General?” he asked politely in German, offering the same salute in return but without the greeting. It wasn’t normally done that way, but the tall German supposed someone that powerful could do as he pleased.

And yet Klink said nothing in response to the question, figuring that the head of the _Luftwaffe_ was asking it of either Burkhalter or Hogan. He was so rattled that he’d momentarily forgotten he was a general. And even if he’d somehow remembered that, what was he supposed to say? ‘I am fine, sorry to see that you are locked up?’

Hardly, because that would be both disrespectful and rude. So instead the German officer took turns glancing at his former senior POW officer and his commanding officer, waiting for one of them to answer the question. A confused look crossed his face when neither of them spoke, and the silence made him begin to feel uneasy.

Meanwhile, Burkhalter had seen the confused expression his subordinate had and let out an irritated sigh. He had never had any patience for stupid people, and right now that’s exactly what Klink was being. "Oh, for the love of...he is addressing **you**!" snapped the Austrian general in exasperation, pointing at the former _Kommandant_ and opting to speak German as well. “Have a little respect for your superiors and answer the _Reichsmarshall’s_ question!” _For the love of God, how dumb can one man be?_ Burkhalter wondered.

_He was asking **me**? Oh, wunderbar. What a way to make a first impression! How could I forget that I am a general now?_ Klink wondered as he managed to give a reply. “F-fine, _Herr Reichsmarshall!_ I-I am fine!” _Very intelligent, Wilhelm. Bravo. How about returning the courtesy, hmmm?_ Choosing to continue speaking German, he asked, “H-how are you, sir?” When had he developed a stuttering problem? That was new, and definitely unwanted.

“Fine, _danke_.” Göring seemed to be sizing Klink up, and for a few minutes there was silence. “You are Wilhelm Klink?” he inquired finally. “The one I received the call about?”

And the flustered German general even managed to flub his answer to that at first. _“N-nein, Herr_ _Reichsmarshall!_ I-I mean _jawohl, Herr_ _Reichsmarshall!_ ”

The head of the _Luftwaffe_ just rolled his eyes and glanced at the fat general. “Is he always like this, Albert?” Göring asked, wondering what made the quivering man in front of him so special.

“I do believe you are making him nervous somehow, Hermann,” Burkhalter said dryly. “Klink may not always be the quickest to catch onto things, but I can assure you that he has never had a stuttering problem before.”

The fat Austrian glanced over at the unusually quiet Robert Hogan, who appeared to be almost bored with everything happening around him. “Might I suggest that you talk to General Hogan for a little while instead?” he suggested. “Even though he is an American officer, he speaks German fluently.”

“I think that is a good idea,” Göring said with a sigh. “Even so, he is still doing better than that other one I saw earlier…he actually fainted after he saw me and I introduced myself.”

Then he looked at Klink, who was still standing at attention and saluting. “At ease, General Klink. Pick up the chair you knocked over and sit back down…and do try to compose yourself.” He nodded at the younger general and switched to English as he asked, “So, you are the American I have heard so much about from Albert?”

“I’m going to guess that’s the case, _Reichsmarshall_ Göring. That is, unless General Burkhalter has nothing better to do than discuss Americans,” responded Hogan nonchalantly as he stood up.

While he stood at attention out of acquiescence, the flippant salute he gave was a normal one. “I hope they’ve all been good things that you’ve heard. And I’m not giving you that funky salute, no offense.” He wanted to say so many impertinent things, and it was killing him to act respectful toward this man. It particularly galled him to use Göring’s title too…but right now, he was only doing it for Klink’s sake.

“You are an American, so none taken. And the things I have heard have been…a mixed assortment,” Göring admitted slowly, appraising the American general in front of him with a critical eye. Unlike the German one, he wasn’t nervous or stuttering, which was a plus! “You offer me basic military courtesy, even though I am the enemy?” he asked curiously. “I appreciate it, but why?” That wasn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination, and it confused him.

“Don’t get me wrong, _Reichsmarshall,_ ” Hogan said coolly. “I hate all that you’ve done in this war, I won’t lie about that. And I’ve definitely got no love for the guy that started all of this in the first place. But I can still admire a fighter ace such as you nevertheless. I’m a bomber pilot myself, and I know it takes real skill to be considered an ace.” While it wasn’t a lie – Hogan actually could respect that type of skill – he was laying it on a little thick, hoping to play on the man’s ego.

“Indeed,” Göring agreed approvingly. “At ease, General Hogan.” He waited until the former senior POW officer had taken his seat before asking, “Do you have any idea how I felt when I got that phone call from you? A phone call…for a **prisoner**? In a **prisoner of war camp** , no less?”

With a sneer, Hogan replied, “Ecstatic that somebody still wanted to talk to you?” He leaned back and crossed his legs before adding, “I’m glad you told me this is a prisoner of war camp. I was beginning to think that it was just a terrible hotel.” He found himself unable to hold back the contemptuous comments any longer, though he had at least made an honest effort to try.

Having finally composed himself enough to speak, Klink leaned over and hissed quietly in his brat’s ear, “Behave!” Then in a normal tone of voice, he added, “Hogan, do you know who this **is**?”

“Someone whose chains don’t match his outfit?” the younger general suggested innocently, knowing the answer to that already.

“He is the head of the _Luftwaffe_ , the supreme commander! So for once, **please** keep a civil tongue in your head,” pleaded the older man.

Shrugging, Hogan stood up and replied, “Oh. Well, I knew **that**. I just thought you were gonna tell me some new information. But you’ve obviously recovered enough to talk now, so just I’ll wait for you outside. Have fun!”

But Klink grabbed his jacket and yanked him back down again. “You are not going anywhere, Hogan!” After seeing his troublemaker give him a curious look, he amended his previous demand. “I mean, please stay.”

The head of the _Luftwaffe_ had been watching their exchange with interest, and he turned to Burkhalter with a surprised expression. “Is this normal behavior between them, Albert?”

With an annoyed eye roll, the Austrian general said, “As a matter of fact, yes. They have always bantered like that.”

“Hmmm. That is highly irregular,” Göring mused, sounding mystified about that revelation.

“Hermann, believe me when I say that those two have never been – nor interacted in – what I would call a ‘normal’ way,” Burkhalter remarked.

Nodding, Göring turned his attention back to the still-conversing pair. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I do not have all day, and I have a few questions for General Klink.” He watched with satisfaction as they both fell silent. “ _Danke_. Now, how did you meet General Hogan?” he asked. “I know something about Stalag 13, and that is it.”

But Hogan shot Burkhalter an impish glance before Klink had the chance to say anything. “Might as well cover your ears, General Burkhalter. You already know what comes next.”

“Thank you so much for that warning, Hogan,” the fat general responded, his tone of voice sounding testy.

“You’re welcome,” replied Hogan agreeably as he looked at Klink. “For once, somebody actually **wants** to hear your boast. Go for it, _Kommandant_ ,” he said, giving the tall German a cheeky smile.

With a frown directed at his troublemaker, Klink switched his gaze to the head of the _Luftwaffe_. “General Hogan was my senior prisoner of war officer for the last three years of the war. He was in *the toughest POW camp in all of Germany, and *there was never a successful escape from Stalag 13!” he finished triumphantly, ignoring the eyeroll that both his brat and his commanding officer gave him.

Yet Göring just gave Klink a bewildered look. “Your…former senior **prisoner of war** officer?” he inquired suspiciously, sounding like he didn’t believe that. “What sort of prisoner of war goes to all this trouble to get his warden promoted?” he demanded to know. He was now wondering if the guards had somehow slipped him some drugs and caused him to hallucinate this whole conversation.

“When you figure out the answer to that, do let me know Hermann,” Burkhalter murmured, wanting to know the answer to that himself.

Klink shrugged. “Well, I always treated all of my prisoners humanely, _Herr_ _Reichsmarshall,_ ” he said before suggesting, “Perhaps one of them was just grateful for that.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that, _Herr_ General?” Göring asked incredulously. “Even if that were the case, the Allies won the war. Why would any of them care about your career after the fact?”

Hogan had been quiet since he’d last spoken, but now he joined the conversation again. “Because you get more flies with honey than you do vinegar, _Reichsmarshall,_ ” he pointed out as Göring turned to look at him. “And because one good deed deserves another. General Klink always treated me and my men with respect and in an honorable way, so I helped him get the promotion he wanted. Simple enough…even though I might have annoyed him a few times in the last three years.”

“Might have? Only a few? Those are grave understatements, Hogan,” Klink remarked, not seeing what Hogan was trying to do.

The American shot him a dirty look. “You’re not helping, _Kommandant,_ ” he said. Looking back at Göring, he added, “Besides that, _Reichsmarshall,_ General Klink is surprisingly efficient at his job as well.”

“He is?” Burkhalter asked in a false shocked tone. “When did that happen? I must have missed it,” he deadpanned. “And I am certain that Major Hochstetter would agree with me completely if he were here.”

“Oh good, then you two can finally agree on something for a change!” Hogan snapped in frustration. “Geez, General, you’re not helping either!” Here he was trying to make the older man look good to the head of the _Luftwaffe_ , but both Burkhalter and Klink himself kept ruining it!

“Just **who** is Major Hochstetter?” asked Göring curiously, getting sucked into the abrupt change of topic despite himself. He was wondering why he hadn’t heard of this man until now if he was so important!

“The leader of our friendly neighborhood Gestapo,” Hogan replied crossly, the remainder of his patience starting to wear thin.

“The Gestapo have people who are friendly now?” Göring asked in an astonished voice. “It has gone downhill greatly then since I ran it. I knew Himmler could not handle the takeover,” he added, sounding oddly self-satisfied about that for some reason.

“It was a joke, _Reichsmarshall_.” Hogan said with a resigned sigh. _Man,_ _Göring’s_ _got no sense of humor,_ he thought. “Hochstetter’s actually a paranoid asshole who can’t figure out how to talk to anyone without screaming.”

Hogan decided after having that brief discussion that he needed to cheer himself up. So he did what he was best at, according to Klink…acted insolent. “Besides that, Hochstetter’s got a very limited vocabulary…and possibly some memory loss as well. He’d always ask who I was, despite the fact that he saw me every time he visited Stalag 13.” the American added, taking a fleeting pleasure in the snorts of laughter from both the former _Kommandant_ and Burkhalter.

“I see. Well, that does sound more realistic,” Göring said thoughtfully, even if he was still a bit perplexed over what he’d just heard. “But how did you know where I was, General Hogan? Even Albert did not know that,” he pointed out as he returned to the previous topic. “And you even convinced the guards to let me talk to you! How?” he asked Hogan, his mind trying to solve the mystery of the strange American officer.

“The answer to both of those questions is that I’m a very well-connected man, _Reichsmarshall_ Göring,” the former senior POW officer said with a half-smile. “I’ve got no desire to hold any grudges against anyone, because that’s not how I operate. And if things go my way, I’m gonna need General Klink to help me try – and the Allies – rebuild Germany,” he added.

There was complete silence in the room for approximately thirty seconds…until the three Germans all spoke at once.

“You are going to do **what** now, General Hogan?” asked Göring, sounding stunned that an American officer would say such a thing.

“You do?” inquired Klink in surprise. That was news to him!

“Run that by me one more time, Hogan,” Burkhalter ordered. “I do not believe that I heard you correctly.”

Looking pleased at throwing everyone for a loop at once, Hogan repeated his last statement. Then he added, “Yeah, _Kommandant_. As an American, people are going to have a hard time trusting me. But you? You they’ll trust, since you’re a native here.” Nodding to the fat general, he added, “You heard me right, General. You’re still as sharp as ever,” he said sarcastically.

Finally, Hogan looked over at the man who was both Klink and Burkhalter’s boss. “My countrymen reduced Germany completely to rubble, but it was needed to finally stop Hitler in his tracks. So now we’re gonna help you rebuild the place again. Really, it’s the least we can do,” he added.

With a sigh, Göring asked wearily, “Why? Why fix what you went to so much trouble to destroy?” He had never understood Americans to begin with, and he didn’t understand them any better either so far.

“What, did you think we were just going to leave the place in ruins? So that the people who survived the war can die from exposure and lack of supplies instead?” Hogan shot back. “If we wanted more people to die, we would’ve just let the madman keep on doing what he was doing!” He sounded indignant about the very concept of that idea. _Just because the Nazis are barbarians doesn’t mean the Allies are_! he thought angrily.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” came the unexpectedly dejected answer. “Especially as those same countrymen decided to execute me in a most disgraceful manner.”

That successfully shut Hogan up momentarily…until he, Klink and Burkhalter all said, “What?” at the same time in a stunned tone of voice.

“I see no one has told you yet, General Hogan,” responded Göring with a nod. “That surprises me since you are so well-connected…but no matter.” After taking a deep breath, he began to explain what he meant. “I knew even before I stood trial that I would be executed for war crimes…after all, I was a powerful man under the Third Reich. And that meant they needed to make an example out of me,” he said. “The trial was only a formality, merely something to help the Allies sleep better at night. I knew it and so did they, though of course no one said such a thing out loud.”

With a shrug, the head of the _Luftwaffe_ elaborated. “I would have made an example of any of their leaders as well, had our roles been reversed. But to execute a soldier who was loyal to their cause – even if it is an enemy one – via the gallows like a common criminal is despicable!” He ran a hand through his dark hair and further explained, “It is scheduled to happen three days from today.”

“You’re kidding!” the American general said in shock, right before he saw the stony expression and sighed. “I guess you’re not kidding.” _That’s messed up! Nazi or not, that’s **not** okay! _

“What the hell? What was the tribunal thinking?!” exclaimed Hogan angerly. The officer in front of him had undoubtedly either killed – or had issued the order to have killed – hundreds of his comrades in arms. He should be overjoyed to hear about this. But his moral compass was flaring up instead, which was annoying.

“I’m not saying you don’t deserve death for everything you’ve done, _Reichsmarshall_. But I can try and see if they’ll change the manner of execution to the firing squad instead, if you want,” Hogan offered. He wasn’t sure how he’d manage that, but he was taking this one step at a time. “Military law exists for a reason, no matter if you’re on the winning side or the losing one. And that’s very dishonorable how they’re handling this issue.”

The tall German felt a swell of pride at the words the American had spoken, because Hogan was **his** brat. **His** troublemaker. And he was also a truly selfless and giving individual to even make such an offer. Klink had heard through the grapevine how any decision made by the Allied military tribunals was final, which meant that kind of task would be impossible to accomplish. And yet he harbored no doubts that Robert Hogan could get it done, should he set his mind to it.

To everyone’s surprise, Göring shook his head. “I have the situation well under control. And you are not the only one who knows people, General Hogan. But I thank you for your thoughtfulness anyway…you are unlike any American I have ever met.”

As he spoke, he casually glanced at Hogan and Klink sitting side by side, noticing the relaxed vibe between them. “You are General Klink’s friend,” Göring said slowly, and it wasn’t a question. “You care about him very much,” he added, sounding fascinated by that realization. Again, it wasn’t a question…but it changed the mood in the room instantly.

“So? What’s your point, _Reichsmarshall_ Göring?” Hogan asked heatedly. He was beginning to throw off those protective vibes again, as well as gearing up for a fight if need be. He didn’t give a damn if the German officer was Burkhalter’s boss or not. He could be the president of the world, but Göring wasn’t going to threaten **his** _Kommandant_!

And the way the head of the _Luftwaffe_ had made those statements sounded like the beginnings of a threat to him. He was misinterpreting the situation without realizing it, taking what Göring had said like, ‘I know he is your friend, so now I can use him to hurt you if I want to.’ Lately when it came to Wilhelm Klink, Hogan tended to be extremely high-strung and tense like a piano wire. And that went double if he thought there was any danger to the older man at all. He just wished he knew why!

Klink could see the way the younger general had tensed up after those last two statements, as could Burkhalter and Göring. He needed to calm his troublemaker down, and he needed to do it quickly. The guards here looked to be of the trigger happy sort, and he didn’t want anyone shot. “Relax, Hogan,” he commented, trying to defuse the beginnings of a bad situation. “ _Herr_ _Reichsmarshall_ was only making a few passing comments.”

“The hell he was!” Hogan snarled. He had gone completely rigid in his seat now, and his upper lip was pulled back to show that he was gnashing his teeth. It was indeed a scary sight to see, and Klink wondered where the hell this newfound protective streak had come from. “That was an indirect way of threatening to hurt you because you’re my friend! Don’t think I don’t know a low-key threat when I hear one!”

He looked at the chained German officer, who was smirking at those words. The smirk only managed to incense Hogan more as he added, “I don’t give a flying fuck who you know or what rank you are, but I’m gonna give you a warning right now. You mess with General Klink in any way, I’ll beat the shit out of you. I will kick your ass so damn hard, you’ll get a free trip to England whether you want one or not. Now if you wanna fight anyway, bring it on… _Reichs-marsh-all_ ,” the American spat, literally shaking with rage. He’d drawn out each syllable of the last word, the same way Hochstetter had always done with the word ‘ _Kommandant_ ’.

“Hogan, watch your bloody mouth!” Klink exclaimed in absolute shock, the European curse slipping out involuntarily as he put his slender hand on the American’s shoulder. “And you will calm yourself down… **now**. That is an order,” he added firmly, his voice becoming a carbon copy of the icy tone he’d only used twice before. “Nobody is threatening me, do you understand? We will discuss this odd behavior of yours later on, but for now you need to calm down! And again, that is an order.”

He gave Hogan a significant look to go with that statement, and slowly the former senior POW officer relaxed. There was nothing but silence for the next five minutes while Hogan composed himself, as nobody wanted to set him off again. “I am sorry, _Herr Reichsmarshall_. I just do not know what has gotten into him lately,” the older man finally apologized after that time had passed. As he spoke, he gave his troublemaker’s shoulder a slight squeeze. He needed Hogan to stay silent while he smoothed things over.

Burkhalter had been watching the show and wondering if he was going to have to restrain Hogan at some point, but Klink had handled the situation with ease. He wasn’t sure how, but he didn’t care overly much. Choosing to say nothing instead, he just sighed and massaged his temples. He could honestly say that his life was never boring with Klink and Hogan around!

“I can see the problem quite clearly, General Klink,” said the head of the _Luftwaffe_ with renewed amusement. “Your friend, General Hogan – and it is quite obvious to anyone with eyes that that is what you two are, friends – mistook a few observational statements from as me as a threat to you somehow. I do not know how, but that is not the point I am trying to make anyway.”

He glanced at Hogan and remarked, “Before you get your feathers all ruffled again, you should be aware that I am actually no threat to anyone in this room. I was merely surprised to see that such an extraordinary friendship had bloomed, so I commented on it. That was apparently an error on my part,” he said dryly.

Shrugging, he said, “True friendship such as what you just displayed is very rare, so hold onto it and cherish it.” He glanced at Klink and added, “I suggest keeping this man in your life as long as the circumstances will allow it, _Herr_ General. General Hogan is both fiercely loyal and protective of you, and he would never allow any harm to befall you. If anyone attempted to do so, he would kill the person in question first, I believe.”

“You got that right,” Hogan declared, feeling Klink squeeze his shoulder again and shutting up.

“In any event, I have things that I must discuss with Albert privately. So, I must ask you to leave,” Göring added, pretending like he hadn’t heard Hogan’s comment in order to avoid another clash.

“Of course, _Herr Reichsmarshall,_ ” Klink said as he stood up. “Thank you for your time, sir. It was nice to meet you.” He started to offer the required salute, but changed his mind mid-motion and gave a normal one instead.

“Yeah, it was freaking fantastic,” Hogan said sarcastically as he stood up. After Klink elbowed him in the side, he rolled his eyes. “I mean, it was nice to meet you,” he amended, parroting what Klink had just said – and in the same polite tone as well – but not meaning a word of it. His salute was also the sloppiest one he’d ever given, but he didn’t care.

“Indeed,” replied Göring with a wave of his hand, privately deciding that this was the most interesting day he’d had in a while.

As Burkhalter knocked on the door in the arranged code and waited for it to be opened, Hogan had an idea. It had come to him out of nowhere, but those kinds had usually been his best ones! “Hey, General Burkhalter?”

“What is it now, Hogan?” the fat Austrian asked sharply, not in the mood for any more of his childish antics today.

“I just thought of the perfect wife for Gertrude!” Hogan said with an evil grin. The thought of getting that hag off of Klink’s back permanently lifted his mood, and again he stomped down the reason why. _Not the time and not the place to think about that,_ he told himself.

“Really? Who might that be?” inquired Burkhalter curiously. Nobody had ever been willing to marry his sister since Otto had been declared missing in action, so that was an interesting proclamation to him!

“Private Berger,” the American said jubilantly, looking very pleased with himself.

“Private Berger? Why him?” asked Burkhalter, pondering what had prompted this line of discussion in the first place.

“Besides the fact that he’s young, single, decent enough looking and searching for a wife?” asked Hogan wryly. “He’s that guy who was Major Hochstetter’s spy…the one who tried to make sure the Gestapo could completely absorb and control the _Luftwaffe_. He doesn’t have much military experience either, so he’s easily moldable into whatever you want him to be. If nothing else, he’s a private...which means there’s nobody below him on the totem pole to pass the buck to,” he finished smugly.

As the door opened, the Austrian general thought about that. “You make some valid points, Hogan. I will make the arrangements right away.” He looked at the tall German, who was beaming at Hogan’s cleverness once again. “It appears that you are permanently off the hook in that regard, Klink…so consider yourself lucky.” He gave them a casual salute and added, “ _Auf Wiedersehen_ , gentlemen.”

_“Auf Wiedersehen,”_ Klink and Hogan said together as they both returned it and left the room, the door shutting behind them.

**_ The aftermath… _ **

As soon as the door closed and they were alone in the hallway, the smile faded away. “Are you crazy, Hogan?” Klink demanded as they made their way towards the exit. “What were you thinking?! _Reichsmarshall_ Göring is a very powerful man, and –”

“– he’s about to be a dead one, effective three days from now,” finished Hogan flatly. “Or did you miss that part, sir?”

Klink’s shoulders slumped as he was reminded of that. Despite disagreeing about their political views, he’d found the head of the _Luftwaffe_ to be…well, not as big an asshole as he was expecting. The older man didn’t like the idea of death anyway, but the fact that people were still being killed even after the war’s end bothered him. “No, I did not,” he admitted. “Do I really want to know how or why you set this meeting up, Hogan?”

“I thought you might like to meet the guy in charge of your organization. That’s all,” Hogan said simply with a shake of his head. “You were so excited when you thought the funny painter had come to Stalag 13, and I thought you’d actually like to meet someone that was the real deal for once.”

A flash of a blue-gray uniform caught his eye, and Hogan gave Klink that lopsided grin of his. “But you probably don’t want to know **how** I did it, because it makes things a lot easier. If you feel like you can’t handle that without some training, maybe you should go ask Schultz to teach you about his ‘I know nothing’ policy. I understand it’s pretty easy to learn,” he suggested cheekily.

“Hogan, would you be serious for once in your life?” Klink snapped, apparently not seeing what Hogan had and ignoring the rest of what he’d said.

“No, really. He’s right over there,” Hogan replied, the grin still on his face as he pointed the other German out. “Hey, Schultz!” he called out as he waved.

With a sigh, Klink responded, “Hogan, why would Sergeant Schultz be –” He cut himself off as the big man came over to them. “Schultz, what are you doing in that uniform? And where is yours?” he demanded, wondering what new game this was.

“ _Herr Kommandant,_ this **is** my uniform. General Hogan told Corporal Newkirk to make it for me,” Schultz explained as he gave Klink a salute. “Hello, General Hogan. I hope you are well.”

Closing his eyes and sighing, Klink said, “Of course he did. Please explain…now.” Sometimes his troublemaker gave him a raging headache, and this was becoming one of those times.

The former Sergeant of the Guard looked both ways before whispering, “ _Reichsmarshall_ Göring’s direct orders, _Herr Kommandant._ I met him earlier, but I was so scared that I **fainted.** ”

“I’m just fine, Schultzie. And don’t feel too bad…the _Kommandant_ developed a sudden stuttering problem when we met him,” Hogan said with a wink. “He stood up so fast he knocked the chair over. The epitome of grace, General Klink is.”

“Hogan!” snapped Klink, his cheeks briefly flushing pink with embarrassment before looking at his subordinate again. “Continue, Schultz.”

Schultz smiled and tapped his shoulder, indicating his new badge of rank. In a normal voice, he said, “He told me that I should thank General Hogan for the promotion, _Herr Kommandant_ , and he also gave me his congratulations on being such a loyal second in command to you. I did not know you saw me as loyal, _Herr Kommandant_.”

“Of course he did,” Klink repeated. “And neither did I, so that makes two of us.” He gave his brat a glare, and Hogan just gave him an innocent look in return. “So… _Herr_ _Reichsmarshall_ made you a second lieutenant, Schultz?” he asked in disbelief.

_“Jawohl,_ _Herr Kommandant,”_ the new lieutenant said with a smile. “And General **Burkhalter** was there as well. He handed me this **paper** before I left.” Then Schultz proudly pulled out a letter to show them. It basically said the same thing as Klink’s letter saying that he was an ally, only with his information on it instead. “Thank you so much, General Hogan!”

“Aw, it was nothing, Schultz,” responded Hogan, looking uncomfortable with the praise. “Couldn’t let somebody get the wrong idea and shoot you, now could I? Who would run your toy factory?” He shrugged and added casually, “If you get shot, it should be for something you actually did wrong…like eating the last piece of cake, for example,” he ended with a laugh.

“Hmmph, always a jolly joker,” Schultz replied, but he sounded amused anyway.

“You know it! And you said once before that nobody *would believe our Schultz was an officer...what about now, General?" Hogan asked Klink cheekily.

“Silence, Hogan!” the tall German said irritably with a stomp of his foot. His second in command was managing to irritate him as usual, and he also wanted out of this horrible place as quickly as possible. But as usual, Hogan wasn’t making things any easier for him.

“I am not amused by your insolence!” he added, giving the American a dirty look before turning his gaze to Schultz. “So how did **you** get to meet _Herr_ _Reichsmarshall_ , Schultz?”

“Oh, that is easy, _Herr Kommandant_ ,” the fat lieutenant said agreeably. “It was a reward from General Hogan for being useful to him and his men.”

Alarm bells went off inside Hogan’s head as he realized where this conversation was headed. He needed to talk to the big man privately first, but that didn’t look like it was going happen. Hogan wanted to break the news to Klink himself, in his own way. He took a step back and shook his head, making the throat slicing motion repeatedly with his left hand. But Schultz didn’t see it and kept on talking.

“I knew that they had their tunnels this whole time, _Herr Kommandant_. I had seen it a few times before in Barracks 2, with the bunk bed that lifted **up!** Oh **boy** , it was so carefully hidden! But even though I saw **everything** , I still knew nuuu-thing!” the jovial officer said. “And I heard nuuu-thing!”

Hogan let out a low groan, causing his self-appointed disciplinarian to give him a wicked grin. The grin said, ‘You seem to have left a few things out of your story’. Overall, it wasn’t pleasant to see. “Really? How interesting. What else happened at Stalag 13 that I did not know about?” Klink asked casually, his voice sounding extremely unhappy with his troublemaker.

“Oh, so many things, _Herr Kommandant_ ,” the fat German said happily. Clearly, Klink’s tone of voice wasn’t registering on his radar. “They gave me delicious chocolates! And cigarettes, and **strudel!** Oh, so much strudel,” he said wistfully as he remembered the taste of it.

“Every time they were up to some monkey business, they would give me these **things** …and then, I would always know nuuu-thing! They had your office bugged, _Herr Kommandant_ …the bug was in a **picture** , and they used a **coffee pot** to listen to your conversations,” Schultz added with a deep laugh. “Those very naughty boys, always up to no good. But I saw nuuu-thing, because I dislike **fighting** and **war**. And they helped to end both of those things so much faster –”

“Ooookay Schultzie, that’s enough with the stories!” Hogan interrupted hastily after a quick look at Klink. The older general looked furious, and Hogan wanted his friend long gone before Klink’s wrath spilled over. Actually if he really thought about it, he kind of wanted to leave too! “I think the _Kommandant_ ’s a little upset, so you’d better go,” he added briskly. “Come on, let me see you out.”

But he hadn’t taken even two steps away when Klink grabbed him by the neck of his jacket, causing Hogan to let out a high-pitched and very unmanly “Eeep!” of surprise as he was yanked back to Klink’s side.

“No, Hogan…you will stay right here. I am sure Schultz can see his own way out,” Klink said firmly. “Goodbye, Lieutenant!”

The big man took one look at both of them, after which he decided maybe he didn’t want to be there anymore. He gave a hasty “I see nuuu-thing! And I know nuuu-thing! Goodbye, _Herr Kommandant_! Goodbye, General Hogan!” After that, he waddled away quickly.

“You could’ve ‘known nothing’ a few minutes earlier, Schultz!” Hogan called after him as the fat lieutenant disappeared.

“Very naughty boys indeed,” said Klink as he gave his brat an appraising look. “Or at least **one** very naughty boy!” he added, watching Hogan visibly gulp with a degree of satisfaction.

As they resumed walking, Klink began to speak again. “So, Hogan…you had already told me everything, eh? The entire, unaltered truth, correct?” he asked, sounded peeved.

“Yes!” his brat said weakly, knowing this wasn’t going to end well. _Dammit, I should’ve run ahead and talked to Schultz **before** I pointed him out to Klink! Stupid, Rob, stupid!_ he berated himself. His butt was still causing him some pain, and the throbs increased in frequency at the thought of being spanked again. The reasonable part of him knew Klink would never hurt him, or even punish him if he couldn’t handle it safely – that had been the entire problem he’d had last night when he’d bugged Klink about the spoon – but there would always be that small part of him that was unsure about that knowledge.

“Then why is this new information to me, Hogan?” Klink demanded as he gave a scathing look to the American general. “Schultz knew about all of this the entire time! He **knew** , yet he did not let **me** know! I am his commanding officer, and to tell me was his duty! I will have him dishonorably discharged!”

They had reached the door of the building, and now they made their way across the grounds to the gate. Hogan just shook his head and winced. That reaction was what he’d been afraid of, and why he hadn’t mentioned it back at Stalag 13. He hadn’t needed to cause Schultz any kind of problems! Now he just needed to make the older man see that as well.

“Relax, _Kommandant_. How could he tell you anything without you thinking he was some sort of a traitor?” Knowing he had to say more than just that, Hogan added, “Be reasonable, sir. His ‘know nothing’ policy kept him out of trouble on both sides. I know you’re mad – and rightfully so – but we can discuss this later on, and we’ll find a solution that works for both of us.” _And I already know what that solution is gonna be too. I’d have to be an idiot not to know by now,_ he added mentally.

“Just tell me one thing, Hogan,” Klink said. “Why did you not you tell me this before we left Stalag 13? I thought you trusted me,” he said gloomily as they exited the prisoner of war camp and made their way to the borrowed Jeep. He was alternating between being angry and sad, but right now being sad was winning.

“I do, I genuinely do!” the American exclaimed, hating how Klink’s voice had changed tones out of nowhere. “But something like that doesn’t just affect me. Lieutenant Schultz is still subordinate to you, and I couldn’t tell you something like without it possibly affecting his career. You might have had him sent to the Russian Front on principle,” he added.

Klink recognized that his troublemaker had some valid points…and if Hogan had stopped before he’d said his last sentence, he would’ve been in the clear. But that last remark was what set the older general off again. “Hogan, if you think that I would just send a decent man somewhere that he would almost certainly be killed, you have much to learn about me. Because I would **never** do such a thing, and the fact that you could even think that saddens me. I thought we knew each other better by now. You disappoint me in that aspect,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the Jeep.

“I am very upset with you right now, Hogan. So for now, all I want to hear you say to me are the directions to get back to the plane…and a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer to my questions.” Klink looked over at his troublemaker, who was hanging his head in shame after the short scolding. “I expect you will want to settle this in our usual way at some point?” he inquired, holding out his slender hand for the keys. “With the same added elements from the night at Stalag 13 that we had our fight?” He kept his words vague on purpose, mindful of the fact that they could potentially be overheard.

“Yes to both questions, _Kommandant_ ,” Hogan said moodily as he forked the keys over. On one hand, he was glad that the whole matter was out in the open…it meant no more lies between them. On the other hand, he wasn’t looking forward to yet another punishment, simply because he’d made the wrong call about something. Just because he loved the emotional release he got from them didn’t mean that they didn’t hurt! Hogan could honestly say that the reminder ones hurt his butt far less, and sometimes they could be enjoyable if they’d both had a good day. At times like those, the swats weren’t as hard, after all.

The thing was, it wasn’t like this was something extraordinarily huge. It was a problem, that was for sure. But he’d weathered worse things in the time he’d known Klink. No, the real problem was that he felt torn between two impossible situations. On one hand, he’d told Klink before that he’d now admitted everything that had happened in the past three years to him. So he could see why the German general felt betrayed in that sense, because he thought that Hogan had purposely lied to him.

But on the other hand, Hogan hadn’t said anything about it because he’d needed to talk to Schultz first! After they had talked, he had been planning to come clean about that too, so long as he got the okay to do so. But obviously things hadn’t worked out that way for him. This was one of those ‘damned if you, damned if you don’t’ situations, and despite knowing that he felt horribly guilty. Even so, Hogan appreciated how Klink had remembered what he said when it came to the spankings he inevitably earned himself.

“I thought as much,” acknowledged Klink as he checked his mirrors. He’d figured that might be the case, but he’d wanted to confirm that with Hogan first before he did anything. Damnit, he still had that compassionate streak in him. He wanted to be mad right now! “When you are **fully healed** – which I will determine in my own way, since you might lie to me about it – and when we have the privacy and the time to do so, we will handle this.” The unspoken word ‘too’ hung in the air, even though that wasn’t the tall German’s intention.

Letting out a disappointed sigh with his remorseful brat – who just couldn’t seem to get it right – he continued. “But if you badger me about it, I will do nothing instead…and from what you have told me, that would be the worse of your two options. I do not need you pestering me consistently again about such things, because that was exceedingly irritating when you did it before. Do you understand me, young man?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Hogan whispered, sounding unquestionably heartbroken at the fact that he’d disappointed Klink **again.** Even if the former _Kommandant_ hadn’t already directly said it, he could hear it in Klink’s tone. He figured he still had about three days before the pain faded completely, and about five days before he would be considered ‘fully healed’ by regular standards. _It’s gonna be the longest five days I ever waited for,_ he thought. And that was only if they could get privacy, or it could be longer yet!

And yet Klink could hear the unusual tone Hogan had used, and prior experience with his troublemaker told him what to expect as a result. Against his better judgement, the German officer gave American’s hair a quick stroke with his slender hand. “Do not fret so much, Hogan. I have always considered your wants and needs in this regard, but I must be practical as well. You of all people should know that practical wants come before personal ones…little brat,” he finished, tacking the nickname on the end of his sentence on purpose. He needed Hogan to know that everything would be alright in the end – that he wouldn’t be angry forever, he was just upset right now – and to also not to do something **else** foolish in the meantime!

“Completely understood, sir,” the former senior POW officer responded, his tone a much lighter one now. Neither one said anything more about the situation after that. But Hogan had seen what Klink had done at the end of that explanation, and the small consideration made him smile faintly. As the Jeep started up, he began to give Klink the directions as previously requested. He couldn’t wait for them to get back to the plane, because it was **his** turn to fly it now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: ‘Top Secret’ security clearance is the highest level clearance in the military. Naturally Hogan would have it, and if Klink was going to ever be able to work with Hogan in any kind of way, he would need it too so that they could discuss work.**
> 
> **The Jeeps the Germans used in WW2 looked more like a low-slung, armored car than anything else. They were a lot more bulky, but they did have doors! American WW2 Jeeps, however, did not.**
> 
> **Central Continental Prisoner of War Enclosure No. 32 (Camp Ashcan) was a real prisoner-of-war camp that operated from May – August of 1945. It was located in the town of Mondorf-les-Bains in the country of Luxembourg, and it’s where eighty-six of the most prominent Nazis were imprisoned prior to the Nuremberg Trials. While Luxembourg borders Germany, it was still considered its own country at that time. To say that living conditions were terrible would be overselling it by a long shot…the camp was a place nobody should ever have to set foot in, let alone live.**
> 
> **Hermann Göring established the Gestapo on November 30th, 1933, but gave control of it over to Heinrich Himmler on April 20th, 1934.**
> 
> **In reality, Göring was tried at the Nuremberg Trials. And they didn’t start until November 20th, 1945, going until October 1st, 1946. But I gave him a separate (and quicker) trial for this story. He was sentenced to hang like a common criminal, so he asked them to be executed by firing squad instead like the military officer he was instead. Since the tribunal refused, he got one of the guards to slip him the cyanide pill they’d previously confiscated from him. He then used it to commit suicide the night before he was sentenced to die. Let me just say now that I’m no Nazi sympathizer...I was just trying to describe how he probably saw the entire event.**
> 
> **I underlined and boldened some of the words Schultz says to show how he emphasizes some words.**
> 
> **A second lieutenant is one rank above a sergeant, and it is considered an officer rank.**


	14. Oh, The Places We Will Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for General Hogan to meet up with his former team in London! But what will London do when they meet General Klink in person? And what is Carter up to now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Déjà vu_ = A French term, which means ‘already seen’ and is used to indicate like you’ve already done a particular thing once before without knowing it.  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Frauen_ = Women  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Oui_ = French for ‘yes’  
>  _Mon ami_ = French for ‘my friend’  
>  _Saints chats_ = French for ‘holy cats’  
>  _André_ = French for the name ‘Andrew’  
>  _Kraut/krauts_ = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
>  _Jerry_ = British slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.  
>  _Exactement_ = French for ‘exactly’  
>  _Pièrre_ = French for the name ‘Peter’  
>  _Le_ = French for the word ‘the’  
>  _Boche_ = French slang, which translates to ‘German’ & is a derogatory term.  
>  _Commandant_ = French for ‘the Commander’  
>  _Général_ = French for the word ‘General’  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for ‘ _Stammlager_ ’, which is short for ‘ _Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager_ ’. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Oflag_ = Short for _‘Offizierslager’_ , which translates to ‘Officer's camp’  
>  _Mon_ = French for the word ‘my’  
>  _Dummkopf_ = Idiot  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Kommandtur_ = Commander’s office  
>  _L’amour_ = French for ‘love’  
>  _Non_ = French for ‘no’  
>  _Dormir ensemble_ = French for ‘sleeping together’  
>  _Avoir des relations sexuelles_ = French for ‘having sex’  
>  _Reichsmarks_ = The currency of Nazi Germany. (It was discontinued in 1948.)

**_ Meeting up in London… _ **

“Do you have a sense of _déjà vu_ right now, Hogan? Or is it just me?” Klink asked his troublemaker as they stood off to one side, in the shadows of the large room on the British military base.

They were at the headquarters of the Allied High Command, and Robert Hogan had been officially given his promotion ceremony. To his surprise, he hadn’t gotten any dirty looks here from anyone. Instead, they’d shaken his hand and congratulated him! _And I am still amazed about that, especially after that British sergeant in Luxembourg,_ Klink thought.

“A little bit, yeah. Why?” Hogan asked, wondering if it was for the same reason he did or because of something else.

Before his official ceremony, they’d told him he was up for a second star. To their surprise he’d turned them down flat. Hogan was happy with what he had, and he knew that the higher star generals usually ended up as desk jockeys for their own protection. He was a man of action, and a career in administration wouldn’t suit him at all.

With a smile, Klink shrugged and responded, “I was just remembering when we were here once before together, to steal that plane. I was here walking around with a certain handsome young colonel, and I am just grateful we were on a military base. Otherwise, I fear we might have been stampeded by _frauen_ wanting your attention.”

Klink shook his head, seeing the unwanted image in his mind. _Why does the idea of Hogan being surrounded by adoring women bother me so much?_ he pondered. “I was wearing an American uniform then too, you know.”

He tugged on one pant leg to adjust it for the third time since they’d arrived here as he added, “This uniform feels very strange. I am not sure I can get used to wearing it, Hogan. My _Luftwaffe_ uniform is much more…er….”

“Form-fitting? Time consuming to put on?” Hogan suggested helpfully. “And yeah, I remember that too. But you think I’m handsome?” he teased, only intending on giving Klink a hard time as usual. But his surprise, the tall German blushed. _What the hell? What was that about?_

“I…uh…no!” Klink said firmly, dearly wishing that were true. “I was just saying how a woman would see you. Do not get a swelled head from a simple observation, Hogan.”

The older man rolled his eyes at the answer he’d gotten. “And it may be all of the above, but it is also very comfortable.”

He took in the sight of his brat standing there wearing his full dress uniform and grinned. “Even so, you still look very nice, Hogan. And you really do fly well, as I sure you are aware. How General Biedenbender managed to figure out what you were going to do ahead of time, I will never understand. Even if he studied you extensively, that means nothing. I have interacted with you every day for the past three years, and I **still** cannot predict what you will do,” Klink pointed out.

“All part of what keeps me sharp, _Kommandant_ ,” said Hogan lightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a chick magnet in this uniform too.”

“I –” Klink cut himself with a sharp intake of breath as he made a split-second decision. "Wilhelm. My name is Wilhelm," he said determinedly.

Hogan gave him an odd look, wondering that random announcement had come from. “Ooookay…so why are you telling me that? Or are you just reminding yourself of it, sir?" _I’ve heard Klink say a lot of nonsensical things, but that has got to top them all,_ he thought.

"No, Hogan,” the German officer replied patiently, knowing his proclamation had come out of nowhere. “I meant that my name is Wilhelm, and I would like you to call me that. I am not your _Kommandant_ any longer."

Klink looked uncertain as he spoke, as if he weren’t sure how Hogan would respond to that declaration.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Hogan nodded. "Sure, _Kom_ – I mean, Wilhelm," Hogan said as he tested the name out on his tongue.

He liked the German variation of the name ‘William’…it spoke of nobility and excellent manners, yet someone who was also kind and understanding. _Really, it suits Klink perfectly._

"But only if you call me Robert from now on. Or Rob. I'm good with either one," he added. It was his turn to look uncertain now.

 _Robert sounds like a form of the German name ‘Hrodebert’, which means ‘bright fame’…yes, an undoubtedly suitable name for my troublemaker. But Rob sounds more like a little boy’s name, and Hogan often acts like an overgrown child. So…hmmm,_ thought Klink.

Finally, he decided that he would use whichever version struck his inclination at the time. “I am glad that is settled, Rob.” The former _Kommandant_ gave Hogan a smile and was rewarded with one back in turn.

“As I was saying previously, I was not – as you put it – a ‘chick magnet’ in my previous uniform. And I do not see how that will change now, because you Americans have no sense of style,” Klink teased.

“Yeah, but at least we can get dressed in under five minutes. We don’t have to still be pulling on our boots in the sidecar of a motorcycle,” Hogan teased back when he recalled numerous times Klink had done just that.

“Besides, I can’t help it if the German women have no taste. But the American and British ones do, and you’ll do okay here. Your shoulders actually look broader wearing this uniform, because you don’t have so much padding in it to hide them.” The younger officer abruptly shut up as he realized what he’d just said, and now it was his turn to blush.

“Well, if you had been so kind to give me about thirty minutes’ advance warning of any escape attempts, I might have been able to be fully dressed instead of hopping out of my quarters on one foot,” Klink felt obliged to mention in an amused voice.

The older general eyed the way Hogan was blushing and teased, “Oh, so you noticed that? Should I be concerned about something inappropriate happening when we return to our hotel room? You have done quite a good job of imitating an octopus before, you know.”

“N-no,” the American general stammered, wishing he hadn’t opened his big mouth as an image of him wrapped around Klink presented itself in his mind. “Why would you have to be concerned about that? We’re only sharing a room because it’s cost-effective. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

After clearing his throat, Hogan added, “Besides, we were supposed to have a sleepover back at Stalag 13 anyway. You said you would, but then you got upset with me. I only thought I’d inform you of that so you’d know that I’m still not happy about the missed opportunity.”

Hogan was trying to get his heart-rate back down after feeling that it had recently sped up. When he’d spoken a minute ago, his voice had also become a little more high-pitched than it usually was.

“Besides, where would be the fun in that, Wilhelm? You liked being led on the merry chase just as much as we liked leading you on it,” he added with a half-smile.

Ignoring that comment, Klink said, “I still am upset with you, Rob. The only thing that changed was the reason for my displeasure. But a hotel room is hardly practical for that sort of thing. And anyway, I can see that you are still in pain. The entire situation will remain on hold for the time being,” he replied in a tone one that left no room for argument.

Changing the subject, he said, “Do you really think that your men will fall for this little prank? The Englander **did** make me this uniform, so it is not as if they do not know that I own it,” he added.

Hogan didn’t push the issue for once, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, he answered, “I don’t see why not. Your back is to the door, you’re wearing a hat so they can’t see your head, and you’re not carrying your riding crop or wearing your monocle. As long as you suppress your accent like you showed me earlier, it’ll work.”

The former senior POW officer gave Klink what he hoped was a causal look before asking nonchalantly, “So, uh…where **is** your riding crop, anyway?”

The tall German nodded and replied, “That is true.”

Hearing the odd question, Klink gave the younger general an inquisitive look in return. “It is in the duffel bag you packed, in our hotel room. Why? Were you hoping I forgot it back at the camp, perhaps?”

“Nope, just the opposite,” Hogan said cheerfully. A movement behind Klink caught his eye, and he gave the older man a mischievous smile. “Here they come. It’s showtime.”

**_ Together again… _ **

“Blimey, who’s that wit’ the Guv’nor?” asked Peter Newkirk as he spotted the Unsung Heroes’ commander. “Whoever it is, ‘e’s a tall bloke.”

He could see Hogan was deep in conversation with another officer, if the shape of the hat he wore was any indication.

Louis LeBeau peered around his friends to see what his friends were talking about. As the shortest one of the mismatched group, usually he would have walked in front of everyone else. But today he’d decided to be in the back, which had obviously not been the brightest idea. “ _Oui_ , I agree with you, _mon ami_. He’s much taller than me, that is for sure.”

“Louis, **every** man is taller than you,” ribbed Newkirk good-naturedly, causing their chef to flip him off as an answer to that comment. “What abou’ you, Carter? Who do you think ‘e is?”

“I dunno, boy,” Andrew Carter responded thoughtfully as they walked toward Hogan and the mystery man. “There’s just something about him that’s familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

He took another glance at his commanding officer, the occasionally crazy colonel-turned-general that had been with them every step of the way in their mission. “Whoever that guy is though, I’d say he obviously knows General Hogan well.”

James Kinchloe looked at the youngest member of their team in surprise. “What makes you say that, Carter?” he asked as he too looked ahead of them, noticing the smile on Hogan’s face and the relaxed stance he had while he talked with the unknown officer.

Part of the radioman wondered if Hogan had seen them yet before dismissing the idea. The general was offbeat at times in his behavior patterns, but he’d never just see his team and outright ignore them like that.

Carter pointed a gloved hand at the pair and began to explain. “Well, just look at our fearless leader. You fellas see the way the general is talking with his hands, all animated and stuff? You don’t do that unless you’re completely into a conversation with someone. And you gotta know ‘em really good, see, because otherwise you just wouldn’t be able to let your guard down to get into it like that.”

The demolitions expert nodded once and added, “I’d say he’s a good friend, based off of the body language we’re seeing.”

 _“Saints chats,_ _André,”_ said the little Frenchman, sounding stunned. “Since when do you notice anything like that?” Carter was notoriously naïve about the ways of the world, so that assessment had come out of the blue.

“You ain’t lyin’ abou’ tha’, LeBeau,” Newkirk chimed in. “Andrew, when did you become so smart?”

He knew that his friend had to have intelligence in there under the constant nattering he did, because Carter specialized in explosives. Anything that went ‘boom’ was something you could only mess up once, which meant one had to be very careful.

But Kinch only grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth. “Guys, I think Carter here has been smarter than he’s let on all this time.”

While the radioman knew Carter couldn’t be as clueless as he seemed – after all, he wanted to be a pharmacist at some point – sometimes it was difficult to take him seriously. “Anyway, who cares? At least he’s ditched the _Kraut_ , right?”

“And abou’ ruddy time, too,” grumbled Newkirk as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I still can’t believe the Guv’nor made me make not one, but **two** uniforms for a bloody _Jerry_!” Newkirk had no love at all for the German military, especially not the _Luftwaffe_. Not after they’d bombed all of London in the Battle of Britain.

In addition, he’d been the first of the Heroes to arrive at Stalag 13. He’d been there before Klink took command of the camp, and the previous _Kommandant_ had been a twisted excuse for a human being. The Englishman had not been sad at all to see him transferred elsewhere.

“ _Oui_ , my thoughts _exactement, Pièrre,_ ” LeBeau agreed with a sharp nod. _“Le Boche_ _Commandant_ made life very difficult for _le Général,_ and even us at times. I still say that I will never understand Americans.”

They were very close to their commanding officer now, and yet Hogan hadn’t acknowledged them. As they drew closer to the two men, they heard a deep laugh and a voice say, “That is very funny, Rob.”

Carter looked at his teammates and whispered, “Good news guys, it’s not Klink. It’s an American, but I’m trying to see his rank.”

He craned his neck to see better and added, “A brigadier general, ‘cause he’s only got one star.”

After that delightful news bulletin, the group heaved a collective sigh of relief. It wasn’t Klink! Deciding to get the former senior POW officer’s attention, Carter waved frantically at the new general. “Hey, General Hogan! It’s us!”

They watched their commander tap the unknown officer on the shoulder, after which he nodded and stepped further back into the shadows. As the shadows hid his face, it was an unusual thing to do. But they really didn’t care about that right now. They were more concerned about talking to Hogan.

“Carter!” Hogan exclaimed, pretending like he hadn’t seen his team coming the entire time. And after looking behind his demolitions expert, he added, “Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau! What’re you guys doing here?”

The former sergeant smiled in that goofy way he had. “Not much, boy…I mean, sir. We’re just catching up, being debriefed…you know, the usual.” Then he tapped his captain’s bars with a look of confusion.

“But uh, I think you mighta made a mistake in the paperwork somewhere, sir. Otherwise, there’s just no way a doofus like me could end up outranking everyone on the team except you. I only made stuff go boom,” Carter added with a downtrodden expression.

The young captain knew everyone else probably thought he was a complete idiot, but he worked hard to always stay carefree and cheerful. Sometimes he even hammed it up a little bit, but that was only to make the others laugh. And even if they were annoyed instead, well…you couldn’t be annoyed and depressed at the same time!

“You only made stuff go boom,” Hogan repeated slowly, wanting to shake his demolitions expert for thinking himself so unimportant to their mission. “Carter, let me tell you something. You **do** realize that without all the bombs you made, there wouldn’t have **been** an operation, right?”

Where had Carter gotten the idea that he wasn’t important from? The American general figured he could ask that some other time. “Don’t sell yourself short like that. **I** can’t make bombs. Newkirk can’t make bombs either, despite his ‘magic hands’. And neither can Kinch or LeBeau. That’s something that requires real talent!” he said, making air quotes with his fingers.

“Gee, do you really think so?” Carter asked hesitantly, feeling torn between wanting to believe that and figuring it was just something Hogan felt he had to say.

Sighing, Hogan replied, “Yes. Now cheer up, will ya? It’s supposed to be a happy occasion today,” he added as he clapped the young officer on the back. How Carter could possibly get the idea that explosives weren’t that important in their operation – when said operation primarily consisted of blowing things up – was beyond him.

Hell, he’d even told the Allied High Command that, along with explaining why he wanted Carter promoted three ranks instead of two like the others. _“Carter was originally a second lieutenant when he came to us,”_ Hogan had informed the brass when he’d talked to them. _“I didn’t demote him in any way, so he's technically still one. We only made him a sergeant to hid him in plain sight, since we were at a stalag and not an Oflag. But his ability to make any sort of explosive is amazing, and he would’ve been a dangerous enemy to have.”_

“Sure, okay. You got it, boy…I mean, General!” Carter said with an ear-to-ear grin. Hogan didn’t think he was useless after all! **And** he still outranked Newkirk, which would give him something to tease the Englishman about later on.

“Guv’nor, it’s good to see you, sir!” Newkirk called out, walking closer to where the former senior POW officer stood. “Don’t mind us, now. We’ve jus’ been to get a little bump in our paychecks, if you will.”

He tapped his shoulder, which indicated that he was a second lieutenant now. “Still can’t believe you put me in to become a bleedin’ officer. I never ‘ave been partial to chartreuse.” Newkirk was smiling as he talked, even if he managed to somehow look slightly offended anyway.

“Aw, but you’d look so good in it, Newkirk,” teased Hogan. “You kept saying you didn’t like basic black, so I thought a lighter color might work for you.” He clapped the former corporal on the back and said, “You were a fine asset to the team. I’ve never seen one man with so many skills.”

For Newkirk, Hogan had told London just that. “ _Newkirk is a rare gem to work with, because the man can do just about anything he puts his mind to. He made uniforms so authentic looking that the Krauts themselves didn’t spot them as fakes, he sewed any repairs we needed done, he can break into almost any safe, he’s a master forger, and he can do a great German accent. You should be proud to say he’s British.”_ He could have told them more, but they’d gotten the picture by then.

“Always a comedian, you are, sir,” muttered the British lieutenant as he shook his head.

“What about me, _mon Général_ _?_ ” asked LeBeau with a grin as he reached the others. Being the affectionate sort of person he was, the little Frenchman gave the American general a hug. “It is good to see you again, sir.”

“And you as well, LeBeau!” responded Hogan as he returned the hug. The French were a passionate and emotional people, so it didn’t bother him like it would with anyone else. That was just how the former corporal did things.

“Your job was keeping us all well-fed, LeBeau. Without you, we wouldn’t have been in any kind of shape to do anything. So, how are you liking being an officer now?” Hogan inquired, wondering if the French pilot would be offended by it as well.

“Eh,” their chef said as he held out his hand and tilted it back and forth in a ‘so-so’ motion. “It is okay, but the hats they wear are simply terrible. Whoever designed them clearly was not French, because they had no sense of fashion. I think that I liked my red beret much better. Still, I will manage somehow,” he said with a shrug.

LeBeau had been made a second lieutenant, just like Newkirk had. _“Sawdust is not a good way to make bread taste better. Just his ability to make good food out of almost nothing warrants that promotion, as does the fact he often used them to distract the Krauts at parties so we could get things done. Without LeBeau’s cooking abilities, we all would’ve literally starved to death,”_ was what Hogan had told the brass on the little Frenchman’s behalf.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” Hogan commented dryly as he looked at Kinch.

The radioman wore his new rank proudly, and still the younger general frowned. “Kinch, I put you in to be made a captain as well. What gives?” he asked, pointing to the first lieutenant insignia.

“Ah…the brass said it wasn’t warranted, General. Something about how operating a radio and rarely going outside the wire wasn’t as useful to the team,” Kinch responded evenly. He was long since used to the discrimination because of his skin color by now. But at least Hogan had **tried** to get him a higher rank!

“What? What kind of logic is that?” complained Hogan as he motioned to Kinch’s skin. “It would have been a little obvious, you know? You can’t exactly pass for a member of the ‘master race’. So what else were you supposed to do?”

_“Kinch is my second-in-command, and he was a key player in taking messages from you guys while we were outside the wire. While he didn’t usually leave the camp, he did everything he could to help us. And on top of that, visitors to the camp usually insulted him and/or used slurs regarding the fact that he was black. That was something the rest of us didn’t have to worry about.”_

The American general had needed to stress the radioman’s importance to the brass, seeing as they didn’t seem to agree with him. But he **thought** that he’d finally convinced them! Yet Hogan already knew the real reason for the denial was because his second-in-command was black. Discrimination was still a serious issue worldwide, and not everyone was as tolerant as he was. “I’ll just –”

“No, General,” the radioman said calmly. “Neither you nor I need to make waves about this, being as it won’t do any good right now. I’m sure that social prejudices will change in time. And when they do, we’ll both be here to see it, after which feel free to complain about this all you want. Okay?”

Kinch respected his commander, he really did. But Hogan had a fast temper and a protective streak towards those he cared about. After all, he’d seen the general’s hackles go up more than once when someone messed with them during the war.

“Yeah, okay. I really hate it when you make sense, Kinch,” Hogan grumbled.

“I know, sir. But it’s my job. Anyway, are you going to introduce us to your friend?” Kinch asked, changing the subject as he gestured to the silent officer in the shadows.

“Friend?” Hogan cocked his head with a smile, wondering how his team had figured it out so fast. “What makes you think he’s a friend?”

Klink **was** his friend, of course. But he wanted to know what had given him away.

“General,” Kinch said, giving him that look that said he wasn’t fooling them. “You were all but dancing around, waving your hands as you guys talked. I’ve never seen you so animated before, sir.”

The first lieutenant kept watching Hogan, whose smile had turned into a grin. “And that grin you’ve got now only confirms what I just said, sir. Still, I’m glad to see you’ve got a friend here. Anything’s better than watching you play verbal volleyball with Klink and the other _Krauts_.”

“Damn straigh’ it is,” Newkirk added as he frowned. “Bloody _Jerry_ was a righ’ pain in me arse. Glad to see you ditched him in Germany, Guv’nor.”

LeBeau nodded with a scowl. “I agree, _Pièrre._ I cannot stand the _Bosche_!”

He looked over at Hogan, who appeared to be upset for some reason. “I am sorry, _mon Général,_ but it is the truth of the matter.”

But Carter shook his head. “I dunno,” he said as he considered everything that had happened to him in the last three years.

“I think most of ‘em could be called _Krauts_ , but not any of the guards working at the camp. Schultz was always good to us, and so was Langenscheidt. Heck, even Klink let us out of the cooler early a lot of the time, you know? He wasn’t that bad. We’ve had a lot worse guys in charge of Stalag 13 before,” he added with a shrug.

 **“CARTER!”** shouted Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch at the same time, wondering if one of the cave-ins he’d caused with his bombs had given him delayed brain damage at some point.

Knowing how they operated, Hogan held up his hands before a full-scale argument could start up. “*Alright, hold it, hold it!”

He glared at everyone on his team except Carter. Then he decided to point out something to them, something he hadn’t realized himself until about a few minutes ago.

“I think you guys should remember something important when you answer this question, okay?” He didn’t appreciate hearing the slurs against Klink, even if he himself had once used them. _But that was then, and this is now,_ he thought.

“Okay, shoot,” Carter said agreeably.

“I am listening, _Général_ _,_ ” replied LeBeau warily, wondering why Hogan was upset.

“Go for it, Guv’nor,” added Newkirk as he raised his eyebrows.

“What’s on your mind, sir?” finished Kinch curiously.

Taking a deep breath, Hogan told them. “I want each of you guys to give one instance – just one, mind you – where Klink or anyone else that **actually worked** at Stalag 13 ever said a slur of any kind to you. Go,” he finished. If they could come up with one, he’d eat his hat!

“Well, there was tha’ one time…no wait, tha’ was some Gestapo goon,” began Newkirk. “But then…never mind, tha’ was Hochstetter. Damn,” Newkirk said. But then he snapped his fingers and smirked. “I’ve got one! They all called me ‘Englander’. How about tha’ one, Guv’nor?” he asked triumphantly.

Hogan rolled his eyes at the transparent attempt to save face. “I think they were calling you an Englishman in their own way,” he responded. “Got anything else?”

“Er…no, sir,” the British second lieutenant admitted, not looking very happy that he’d failed to think of something.

“Then you’re out,” Hogan said with a smirk, looking at the other three men. “What about any of you guys?”

“Can’t think of one,” Kinch admitted. Stalag 13 had been the only place in Germany where he had been treated equal to everyone else.

“Me neither,” Carter spoke up, the expression on his face unreadable.

“Does ‘Cockroach’ count, _Général_?” asked the French second lieutenant, figuring he already knew the answer after Newkirk’s attempt to use something similar.

“That’s a reference to your height, so no,” the former senior POW officer replied wearily , massaging his temples. “Now see here, you guys. I’m gonna try and get stationed in Germany to help with the reconstruction efforts. You guys can help if you want to, or you can go elsewhere. God only knows you’re probably sick of the place by now.”

He crossed his arms as he lectured them. “But I **do not** want to hear any more slurs toward the German people from you guys ever again when I’m around. And that’s an order!” he snapped, feeling oddly irritable today. The master of ceremonies had been very insistent that he accept the second star, despite Hogan repeatedly telling him no. The former senior POW officer had almost clocked him one before he’d backed off.

And before any of Hogan’s men could voice their opinion about that order – or point out that he’d used them as well previously – they heard a low chuckle from the shadows. “You have an interesting group of men under your command, Rob. Very opinionated, and they are not afraid of you in any way. I like it,” said a voice with an American accent.

The remainder of the Unsung Heroes watched in amusement as their commander almost jumped out of his skin and spun around. “Damnmit, don’t **do** that!” he said testily to the stranger. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Language, Rob. And I am deeply sorry,” the voice said, sounding anything but sorry. “Do you mind if I come out now?”

“Yeah, you might as well,” the American officer grumbled. Fortunately, his bad mood only lasted until Klink revealed himself. Then he started laughing at the looks on his team members’ faces. He knew why they were surprised. The older man had completely suppressed his German accent, choosing instead to mimic the one Hogan had instead. Apparently, their joke had been successful!

“Andrew,” began Newkirk slowly, “Would you be so kind as to smack me cheek lightly? I believe I migh’ be hallucinatin’.”

“If you are, I’m sharing it with you somehow, buddy,” Carter mumbled, even as he smacked Newkirk upside the head instead. Since the former corporal had done it to him many times, he enjoyed the payback.

“Thanks, Carter. But tha’ was me ‘ead, **not** me cheek!” the British second lieutenant said heatedly.

“Sorry, Peter,” the young captain smirked. “Too many years of ‘tunnel vision’ from making bombs. A fella can only handle so much of that lifestyle,” he added as he made air quotes with his fingers.

Klink let out an uncharacteristic snort of laughter at the demolition expert’s joke, which made LeBeau speak up.

 _“Mon_ _Général_ , is there a reason your friend looks exactly like Klink, yet he speaks as an American would instead?” he demanded, wanting to know what was going on here.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Kinch added as he stared at Klink. “I mean, he looks like him and all. But something’s different, though I couldn’t tell you what it is. He’s taller, and he comes off as more self-confident when he talks. Klink was shorter than you, sir,” he said with confusion. “And a babbling idiot to boot.”

“Actually, we’re the same height,” Hogan said with amusement. “I just slouch most of the time, and Wilhelm walks stooped over a lot. It’s all an illusion, boys,” he remarked.

“And because that **is** him. Don’t you guys recognize the general after three years of knowing him?” Hogan asked.

 **“WILHELM?!”** his team repeated at the same time, sounding stunned. They gave each other baffled looks, wondering when Hogan had gotten that friendly with the tall German. They’d sure never been on a first-name basis before!

“Indeed, it is I,” said Klink with a genuine smile, enjoying the results of their prank. “I have never been a _dummkopf_ , Lieutenant Kinchloe. However, I will concur that I often babbled at times. As for self-confidence, I have never been around anyone who valued me just for my company before, without wanting something in return. It is truly refreshing,” he finished with a shrug.

An actual smile wasn’t one they were used to seeing from the former _Kommandant_ , so the other men circled around Hogan to make sure nothing fishy would happen to him. They didn’t trust this new development at all, and it made them wonder if Hogan had finally snapped from the stress of the war.

“But yes, that is what he calls me now. And I call him Rob in return. After all, they are our names, no?” he asked wryly, admiring the way Hogan’s team felt the need to protect him.

“Yeah, but…but your voice,” said Carter weakly as his mind tried to piece the odd situation together.

The older man gave a brisk nod and a sigh as he stooped over like he’d done in the past. Then he walked a short distance from them and back again, moving the way he’d used to when he’d conducted the roll calls.

Letting his German accent resurface as well, he asked, “Does that help your mind to play catch up, Captain Carter?”

“Blimey, it really **is** the _Kommandant_ ,” Newkirk exclaimed, not sure how he felt about what he’d just seen. Even so, he mentally applauded the way the tall German had sounded just like an American. And with the same dialect as Hogan, even. “Tha’ was brilliant though. The way you disguised your voice, I mean,” he reluctantly admitted.

“ _Danke_ , Lieutenant Newkirk,” Klink said, sincerely appreciating the compliment. He knew the Englishman didn’t like Germans on principle, and thus he also knew that it probably hurt Newkirk’s pride to even say what he’d said.

“You can all stop crowding around Rob now, if you do not mind,” the German general causally remarked as he looked at the men determined to protect their commanding officer. “I can appreciate the show of support, but I am hardly a threat to him. Or to any of you,” he added.

Right now, he was feeling the same way he had when he’d picked up the envelope from London that night, and the two Americans had been on edge around him.

“I’m sure you can understand if we’re a little hesitant to believe what you’re saying, _Kommandant_ ,” Kinch said after a lull in the conversation. “You’re an enemy officer, after all.”

But Klink just shook his head and replied, “I would not say that, _Herr_ Lieutenant. Merely someone trying to make the best of a bad situation and stay alive.”

“By inviting all those goons over constantly?” LeBeau asked heatedly, not buying that flimsy excuse for a minute.

Klink just rolled his eyes and sighed. “Invited them over?! They just showed up most of the time, usually to harass me about one thing or another. **Me,** not any of you. I would have been perfectly happy to run my camp in peace until the end of the war, gentlemen,” he said adamantly.

Feeling annoyed at having to explain the obvious to Hogan’s men, he managed to keep his temper reigned in as he talked. “But all of **you** decided to bring every bit of brass in the area to our doorstep! I understand it had to be done,” he said as he held up a hand to silence objections, “but it did make life rather difficult for everyone.”

With a suspicious look on his face, Newkirk repeated, “ **Our** doorstep? **Everyone?** Now by ‘everyone’, you mean ‘jus’ the prisoners’, righ’?” he inquired as he made air quotes with his hands.

“No _Herr_ Lieutenant, I mean **everyone.** My guards were just as tense during those visits as the prisoners, possibly more so,” the tall German said.

“As long as Rob here,” he tossed a knowing glance at Hogan, who acted like he didn’t see it, “did not antagonize any of the visitors, you all knew where you stood with them. On the other hand, my men and I had no such luxury,” he countered.

“At any given time, one of us could have been transferred out to the Russian Front for any reason…including me. Or even murdered on the spot, although that last one was very unlikely,” Klink pointed out. “If any of you think for one moment that…Rob, what did you call Major Hochstetter again?” the former _Kommandant_ asked his troublemaker.

“Grumpy the dwarf, Wilhelm,” Hogan supplied with a half-smile, glad that his self-appointed disciplinarian was setting the record straight now so that he didn’t have to later on.

Nodding in thanks, Klink continued what he had been saying before. “Ah yes, thank you Rob.”

He looked at Hogan’s men. “Anyhow, if any of you think for one moment that Grumpy the dwarf would not have happily shot me dead where I stood, then none of you were paying close attention. I would not have put it past him to make me become a prisoner in my own camp just for the sake of irony either.”

There was a long silence as the former prisoners contemplated those words. Then it was broken by Kinch as he clapped his hands. “You guys, I think we need to have a talk.”

The radioman looked around him and added, “Over there looks pretty good. Come on, Carter. Newkirk, LeBeau, you guys come too. And I guess you as well if you’d like, General Hogan.”

“How very touching. I get added on to a meeting of my team as a last resort,” said Hogan with a sigh.

Even so, he began to follow the others across the room, stopping only when he saw Carter hadn’t moved. “You coming over here or what, Carter?” he asked.

“With all due respect, I’m gonna sit this one out, boy…I mean, sir,” the American captain said. “I’m not the one Kinch has gotta talk to.”

At the questioning look he received, he added firmly, “Please go with them. I’d like to talk to _Kommandant_ Klink alone for a few minutes, sir.”

Unused to the firm tone from the usually jovial Carter, Hogan nodded before joining the group across the room. Andrew waited until they were alone to turn and face the German general. “Sorry about that, _Kommandant_. General Hogan’s the type of fella who can be awfully stubborn, you know?”

Klink could feel a half-smile appear on his face as he said, “So I have noticed, Captain Carter. And I appreciate your kind words earlier. But what did you wish to speak to me about?”

 _And that is the understatement of the century,_ he thought. He was wondering what could be so important that the youngest member of Hogan’s team had sent his commanding officer and friends away to talk with him privately.

“Well, I made something for you, _Kommandant_ ,” the demolitions expert began hesitantly. “I was just gonna give it to you after the war to remember us by, but now it’s a congratulations gift instead. You know, on making general and all. But it’s also my way of saying thanks for standing up for us when we needed your help. There were a few times when you were all that stood between us and the Gestapo. And I wanted to give it to you in private, ‘cause I didn’t want you to think it was just because I made something for General Hogan and felt bad for you. I wanted it to be special, sir.”

He pulled out a piece of carefully folded paper out of his uniform pocket and began to unfold it. “Anyway, I didn’t know you’d be here and all, so I was gonna ask General Hogan to give me your address so I could mail it to you. Or maybe just ask him to give it to you instead. But I drew this for you, ‘cause I remembered how happy you looked and stuff a few times before. And I remembered how the general sometimes looked too at those times, so I just recreated everything from memory. Here,” Andrew finished as he handed the German officer the paper.

Klink took it, not quite certain what to expect after that rambling explanation. He looked at what Carter had drawn on the paper and began to laugh.

“Carter, this is marvelous! It almost looks like a photo,” he said with a grin. “How in the world did you manage to draw this? You have some extraordinary talent,” he added.

The drawing was on a thick canvas paper, the kind that wasn’t cheap. On it was a drawing of Klink and Hogan in the _Kommandtur._ In the picture, Klink was leaning back in his desk chair with his arms crossed and smiling smugly. Hogan was in the picture as well, but he was in his usual chair in front of the desk. His arms were crossed and he was obviously sulking. They were both in their old uniforms that showed they were colonels, and on the bottom right hand corner, Carter had signed ‘Sergeant Andrew J. Carter’.

“Gee, thanks…and it’s just something I can do,” the young officer said with a shrug. “But if you like it, then why are you laughing?” he asked in a confused voice.

“I made this before I got promoted, by the way. It wasn’t a mistake how I signed my name,” he added defensively.

“I suspected that much when I saw the rank you had written,” Klink said gently as he explained why he’d been laughing.

“No, I was amused because you have captured Rob’s expression perfectly. He looks like a child who was told ‘no’, which is how he would always look whenever he was dealing with me. Or at least, he did during the few times he was not able to persuade me into doing whatever it was he wanted that day.”

The older man studied the paper anew, admiring the detailed artwork once more before carefully folding it up again. “I am going to frame this, you know,” he told the American captain. “It will hang in my living room once I get that far.”

His truthful response made Carter beam like the sun. “Really?” he asked excitedly. “Golly, that’s swell! Thank you,” he replied. “I just remember that you always seemed really happy whenever you one-upped General Hogan, and I wanted you to remember those times. Like a happy memory,” he suggested.

“Very true,” Klink agreed as he put the paper into his uniform pocket. “Thank you again for such a wonderful present.”

“You’re welcome, _Kommandant_ ,” Carter said.

For a moment, neither of them said anything at all. Both of them were too busy watching Hogan across the room. Then Andrew spoke again, and his next words were completely unexpected.

**_ The bombshell… _ **

“General Hogan likes you, _Kommandant_ Klink. I hope you know that,” Andrew said suddenly as they watched the impromptu meeting across the room break up.

“Well yes, of course. We are friends, _Herr_ Captain,” responded Klink as he was wondering where that peculiar statement had come from. “Generally, you like someone if they are a friend.”

“True, but that’s not what I’m saying,” the demolitions expert said patiently as he turned to look at the tall German. He knew his next words were going to sound bizarre, but he also knew how to read body language like a pro. It was yet again something else his team assumed he was too stupid to do correctly.

“He **like** -likes you. Like a fella would like a woman, sir. He might even love you. I can see it on his face every time he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking. Heck, I can see it now on your face too,” Andrew said calmly, unruffled by the verbal bomb he’d just dropped.

If Klink had been wearing his monocle at the time, it would have fallen out in shock. “What? I…what are you…that is **preposterous** , Captain Carter!” he exclaimed as his brat came back into earshot. “It is utterly absurd!”

“What’s absurd, Wilhelm?” the American general inquired as he, Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk rejoined the two other men.

“Your captain is absolutely mad, R-Rob!” Klink stated, sounding exceedingly agitated as he tried to both explain and avoid thinking about what he’d just been told at the same time. “He has just informed me that he thinks that you…that you…l-like me the way a man does a w-woman! Or that you might possibly l-love me instead!”

Unfortunately for Klink, his traitorous mind was busy conjuring up images of what that could be like. Some were even of the adult variety, and it caused him to blush a deep red.

“Huh?” asked Hogan stupidly.

The bold statement caught him completely off guard. Nothing had done that since he’d been an enlisted man long ago, and it caused him to glare at the young officer. “W-where did you get that idea, Carter?” he demanded, sounding flustered himself as he too blushed a deep red.

His own mind was also showing him every type of image under the sun of the two of them, from kid friendly all the way up a definite ‘adults only’ rating. Hogan had been trying to stomp them down for a while now, and this wasn’t helping! “I-I like **women!** And W-Wilhelm’s not a woman. How could I like h-him like that?”

His team had witnessed the exchange, noticing how both of them blushed and avoided looking at the other one during the entire discussion. And both generals were stammering, something that neither of them did as a rule. There was only one thing that surprised them…and that was the amount of time it had taken for this to happen.

“Told you so,” Newkirk said, sounding altogether too smug for his friends’ liking. “Look at the two of ‘em, stammerin’ like tha’ and blushin’. Ain’t neither one of ‘em had a stammerin’ problem before today, and the blushin’ speaks for itself. You lot owe me five dollars each.”

“Yeah, yeah,” complained LeBeau as he reached for his wallet. “How could I have known I would lose that bet, _mon ami_? It seemed like a sure win.”

“Louis, me mate, I never bet on anythin’ tha’ ain’t a sure thing,” replied Newkirk as he held out a hand to take the money and looked at Kinch. “C’mon Kinch, pay up mate.”

“You got lucky, Peter. We should’ve placed a time frame on it though. And Carter placed a bet too!” grumbled the first lieutenant. He wasn’t about to let his friend back out of the deal if he had to fork over the money. Fair was fair!

“Yeah, but in the spirit of generosity an’ all – and because Carter called it – I’m goin’ to let ‘im off the ‘ook,” the British second lieutenant told him. “We’re square, Andrew. Don’t worry abou’ payin’ me.”

“Golly, thanks Newkirk!” remarked Carter with a grin.

The two generals finally managed to stop blushing as they watched the bizarre exchange. “Excuse me, but what the he – heck are you guys doing?” Hogan demanded to know, even as he censored what he’d been planning to say.

“Were you guys…were you guys taking **bets** on if I was in love with Wilhelm?” he asked in a scandalized tone of voice.

“That is what **I** would like to know as well!” chimed in Klink, still sounding highly affronted.

“Well, sure we were, Guv’nor,” Newkirk said cheekily. “I’ve been bidin’ me time for the las’ year or so now. I could see the writin’ on the wall, you know.”

“It’s kinda obvious the way you two look at each other, sir,” Kinch said.

“And I think Carter’s right on both counts,” he said to Newkirk and LeBeau. “It might’ve started out as a simple ‘like’, but that’s not the case anymore. They **love** each other!”

“For crying out loud Kinch, that’s not true!” Hogan tried to protest. “And even if I did, being a homosexual is illegal. I would be dishonorably discharged from the military and my career would be trashed. So would Wilhelm’s, for that matter,” he added.

Klink nodded silently next to him, loath to stick his foot in his mouth. He would let Hogan handle his men for the moment. It wasn’t his place to do that anyways.

Carter replied, “Gee, Kinch didn’t say it was **legal** for you fellas to be in love each other. He only said that you **were**. Love can’t be determined or boxed in by the law, sir.”

“You know, now tha’ I think abou’ it,” began Newkirk, “tha’ explains their constant rows. And it also explains why General Hogan liked visitin’ the _Kommandant_ to ‘ **ave** them bleedin’ rows so much. The Guv’nor **fancied** ‘im!” he said with a knowing look at the rest of the team.

“ _Oui,”_ agreed LeBeau. “I’m French. Believe me, I know _l’amour_ when I see it. And the couples who fight the most with each other are the ones who are the most in love.”

Then Carter decided to speak up again. “And besides, General, you sure went above and beyond the needs of the operation to keep _Kommandant_ Klink happy, boy…I mean, sir. But you should still do whatever it is you fellas are gonna do. We just don’t want you to think you have to hide it from us.”

“It even explains why the Guv’nor was always upse’ whenever _Kommandant_ Klink was depressed as well,” Newkirk interjected. “Became a righ’ mother ‘en, he did.”

“I’m sorry, what are you trying to imply… **Corporal** Newkirk?” Hogan asked in a warning tone. “I’ve never been a mother hen when Wilhelm was depressed! You’re as crazy as you always say I am.” _When did I lose control of this conversation?_

But the British lieutenant knew Hogan wasn’t serious about demoting him, not after making sure he’d been promoted. So he kept on talking.

“Guv’nor, any time you knew _Kommandant_ Klink was anythin’ other than ‘appy, you did everythin’ but **sprint** over to ‘is quarters to see for yourself tha’ ‘e was okay. You’d stay ou’ real late too, sometimes not showin’ up in the barracks until an ‘our before roll call. And when you came back, you were always walkin’ funny for a few days,” Newkirk pointed out.

“I’m no’ judgin’ you’ sir. None of us are. We jus’ wan’ you to know tha’ we’re no’ stupid. A man doesn’t walk funny like tha’ unless ‘e ‘urt ‘is bum somehow. It doesn’t take tha’ much figurin’ out to piece it all together, sir,” the Englishman added.

“Yes, and we won’t tell anybody,” promised LeBeau. “But _Pièrre_ is right. A man’s behind does not bother him for no reason, _mon_ _Général_ , and certainly not that often. None of us bought that ‘muscle strengthening exercise’ excuse you gave us, especially as the few times that you forgot yourself and sat down, you hissed in pain. Now why would you be in pain if you were only standing up frequently and nothing else, _Général?_ _Non_ , it does not make any sense.”

The little Frenchman was grinning as he talked. “And coincidentally, your pain always seemed to happen after a late night visit to _le Commandant_ ’s quarters. The four of us could all tell that you and the _Kommandant_ had been … _Dormir ensemble._ I cannot remember the term in English, but you know… _avoir des relations sexuelles.”_

“LeBeau! That’s not the case. You’re so far off the mark it’s not even funny,” the former senior POW officer argued.

 _Damnmit! I knew they were accepting that flimsy excuse too easily all this time!_ Still, at least they hadn’t guessed the **real** reason for his consistently sore rear end. Hogan supposed he should be grateful for that much.

Meanwhile, Klink had been following along with the conversation silently. He wasn’t happy about it in any way, but at least he’d been able to understand it while they’d been speaking in English. Then the French second lieutenant had lapsed into his native tongue, and the German officer didn’t speak any French at all.

Even if he had, the phrases had come out too quickly for him to translate inside his head. He could bluff his way through very simple words, but that was only by guessing. However, it seemed that his troublemaker understood the language just fine.

So Klink tapped the younger general on his shoulder and asked, “What did he just say in French?”

Yet Hogan just shook his head as he began to blush again. “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he muttered as the terms put more unwanted thoughts into his head.

He’d wanted another warm shower tonight after three years of cold ones, but at the moment it was looking like he was headed back to the old stand-by. That was when Newkirk decided to be helpful for a change by translating. Much to Klink’s horror, the translation was anything **but** helpful to his sanity.

“Louis says you two have been having a go at each other,” he said with a wicked smirk. “You know, shagging. Buggering.”

Rolling his eyes, Kinch added, “The phrases actually translate to ‘sleeping together’ and ‘having sex’. Obviously with each other, mind you,” he said, giving his two friends the evil eye for making things difficult.

After hearing the translations, including Newkirk’s more vulgar ones, Klink shook his head and looked at Hogan. “You were correct. I did **not** want to know,” he whispered in his troublemaker’s ear.

“Told you so,” Hogan whispered back, giving the snarky Englishman a dirty look. “Thanks a heap, Newkirk!”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” the British lieutenant said agreeably.

“Robert?” inquired Klink in a normal voice, feeling as if he needed to get away from the base very soon. “How do you feel about going back to Stalag 13 for some peace and quiet?”

With a sigh, Hogan replied, “It’s looking better and better by the minute. But we’d have a hard time eating with no food. And we’ve got no way to get any of it either. Not to mention the lack of supplies.”

“Yeah, but there won’t **be** any peace and quiet after you two show up again,” chuckled Carter. After that, he handed something to Newkirk and whispered in his ear.

“Look at tha’, gents, we get a show!” Newkirk teased as he pocketed what Carter had given him to give to Hogan. “They’re goin’ to snog in fron’ of us!”

Klink leaned close to his brat’s ear again and whispered, “Rob, get us out of here before either of us lets the truth slip out.”

“Why me? **You** do it!” Hogan whispered back. He was red as a beet from blushing by now.

“Because they are **your** men, Robert!” Klink hissed, the red in his pale cheeks creating an unusual contrast.

“Fine, fine!” Hogan hissed back, trying to think how he was going to do this.

Finally, he gave them all a glare as he spoke. “I’m glad you guys think this is the comedy hour, but the show’s over. Wilhelm and I need to leave. We’ve both got a headache from all of this, and we’re going to head back to our hotel room now to take some aspirin before sleeping it off.”

“Ooh la la! They’re sharing a room already,” LeBeau teased, a knowing smile on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Newkirk silently move to their commander’s side and slip two pieces of paper into the American general’s uniform jacket. Seeing as Newkirk was an accomplished pickpocket, he was able to both remove and insert items on someone’s person at will.

Due to both that and the fact that Hogan was distracted, he didn’t even notice it. He didn’t notice Newkirk move back to where he had been either.

“I’ll just bet they’ll be sleeping **something** off, but it won’t be a headache. You sure do move fast, General Hogan,” commented Kinch with a grin.

Wholly unamused by the good-natured joking around, Klink had had more than enough teasing from his brat’s team. He grabbed Hogan’s hand and began marching away, snapping a quick, “Goodbye, gentlemen!” over his shoulders as he dragged the younger officer with him.

To no one’s surprise, Hogan let himself be pulled along by Klink. “Goodbye, Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau and Kinch!” At some point, both men began out-and-out running toward the exit instead.

“Goodbye, General Hogan!” they called out, waving and watching the two men disappear.

“The Guv’nor can’t wait to get ol’ Klink alone in their ‘otel room. ‘Eadache, me arse. Or rather, ‘is,” said Newkirk with a dirty laugh.

“That right there is true _l’amour_ ,” sighed LeBeau. He was happy for his commanding officer, even if his choice of partner was a bit strange.

“Hey, this a kinda a good thing if you really think about it. That General Hogan swings that way, I mean,” Carter said slowly.

Kinch gave the young captain a quizzical look. “Why’s that, Andrew?”

Carter grinned his usual goofy grin. “Because when it comes to women, now there’s less competition for the rest of us!”

That caused everyone to laugh, and the topic turned to what they were going to do with their lives from now on as they left the base too.

**_ More secrets… _ **

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life,” groaned Hogan from the driver’s seat of the parked car as he covered his face with his hands. He’d been blushing ever since they’d ran to the car and left the base, probably breaking the speed limit along the way.

Hogan was sure that much continuous blood pooling in his cheeks couldn’t be good for his health, but damn! His men had obviously gotten great pleasure out of teasing the two of them. He didn’t begrudge them some fun, but he wished they’d found somebody other than him and Klink to pick on.

“You think **you** were embarrassed, Rob?” asked Klink incredulously. “Those are not my men. All I could do was stand by and listen to them, merely waiting for you to step in. I had no control over the situation at all!”

After his troublemaker had driven like the hounds of hell were after them, the tall German had requested Hogan to find an upscale department store. _“The kind that has a little bit of everything, not a men’s only one,”_ he’d said.

And that’s where they were now, trying to compose themselves. Neither one had said a single word to each other on the drive after Klink had made his request, too mortified from the teasing to speak to each other. The German general had been distressed enough that he hadn’t even cared if Hogan drove, so long as he got them out of there!

“And you think that **I** somehow did?” Hogan demanded hotly as he moved his hands away from his face. “I can’t help it they all took an innocent observation and ran with it like that. Even if it was one hundred percent **incorrect.** ”

That was probably the biggest lie he’d told yet, but there was no way he could say anything else. Not after that fiasco. Actually, not ever. Like he’d told Kinch, homosexuality was illegal and would cost him his career. Besides that, Klink had shown no signs of returning his feelings. Not that there were any to return, mind you.

“True,” Klink admitted with a sigh as he looked at Hogan. “So to be clear, because I do not want things to become awkward between us: you only like me as a friend, correct?”

He halfway wanted the answer to be a ‘no, more than that’, but he sensed that wasn’t going to happen.

“You got it. Only as a friend,” Hogan said, feeling like a metal door had forever closed off an opportunity to him.

“And we are only sharing a room because it is cost-effective, correct?” asked Klink. He felt like he’d just lost something precious for some reason, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Yep,” replied Hogan again. “They’re all bonkers, and I don’t ever want to talk about it again.”

“I fully agree, but I was just making sure,” Klink responded.

He looked up at the department store his brat had found. “So, this place sells a little of everything, yes?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Harrod’s? Oh yeah,” the American responded. “It’s way too ritzy for my tastes, but it’s what you asked me to find. Besides, it’s the only place in the United Kingdom that still sells anything but uniforms,” he said proudly. “So, why are we here?”

“You mean other than the fact that I enjoy window shopping?” asked Klink with amusement.

“Yeah, besides…wait, what?” Hogan asked in a bewildered tone. “ **You** like to window shop?”

“Why are you staring at me like that? It is a perfectly acceptable pastime,” the older man said defensively.

“Okay, Wilhelm. Whatever you say,” said his brat with a laugh. “But yeah, besides that. I didn’t think you had any money besides the camp budget. I’m telling you right now that _Reichsmarks_ are just as useless here as they are in Germany. Maybe even worse.”

“How does something become worse than useless?” pondered Klink before he shook his head. “Never mind, that is not important right now. The important thing is that I was not aware I had any money either until earlier today.”

He shrugged and added, “But now I have British pounds that I can spend. The problem is, I am not up-to-date on the latest prices of things, and I do not fully understand the different amounts of money in pounds. However, I was told it was quite a lot, so –”

“Hold on, just where did you get British pounds?” interrupted Hogan. “We haven’t been to any banks since we got here.”

This he wanted to hear. What had his _Kommandant_ gotten himself into now? “For that matter, who was handing out money? And what did they tell you was considered ‘a lot’?”

The German general gave him a dirty look. “Insolent, rude brat,” he grumbled. “You are always so impatient. I simply cannot take you anywhere, Robert.”

“Oh, you know you love it. Don’t kid yourself,” Hogan teased.

“Hmmph,” said Klink as he crossed his arms in annoyance, even as a half-smile appeared. “I got them while you were having your promotion ceremony. The person who requested my presence wanted me to miss your ceremony, but I told their messenger that whatever it was would keep until said ceremony was through.”

Sighing, Klink continued. “The messenger kept insisting that I go with them, and finally we came to a compromise. I was able to see you ‘officially’ get your one star, but then I had to leave. While that made me rather upset, it worked out well in the end,” he added.

Cocking his head, the American asked, “How’d you figure that?”

With a sigh, Klink looked embarrassed as he spoke. “Well, I knew the money I had was no good. For better or worse, I am completely broke. I needed a way to get some local currency, and I figured I had to do **something** if I wanted to accomplish that goal. So I thought maybe while I was at the base, I –”

“Oh no,” groaned Hogan, not liking where this was going.

“– would see if there were any jobs I could do to earn some money. Not a lot for any one task, mind you. But numerous little tasks, until I had enough to do what I wanted to do,” The tall German continued, ignoring the interruption.

“I had already figured they would be rather distasteful, but such is life. Not all jobs are pleasant ones,” he added.

Rubbing his temples and sighing, Hogan said wearily, “Wilhelm, please just tell me what you were trying to do.”

“I wanted to buy you a present, Rob,” explained Klink patiently. “You have done so much for me, and I only wanted to show you my appreciation. You told me on the plane ride here that you had intentions of seeing your family again, yes?”

“I…well, yeah,” Hogan managed to say. He felt like he’d lost control of the conversation for the second time that day. “But –”

“– you need something nice to wear,” the German general finished firmly. “It would not do for you to show up looking like an uncultured savage. You have not seen your family in years. I should think that you would want to look nice. And you need dress clothes to do that.”

“But we’re the same size!” Hogan protested weakly. “Besides, there’s a dress shirt in the duffel back at the hotel. I can’t **stand** dress clothes of any kind! Wearing them makes me itch, which in turns drives me friggin’ nuts.”

He hated places like this with a fashion, he always had. His family was well-off, so he’d had to wear dress clothes a lot growing up. Whenever his family had attended some social event, he’d been forcibly stuffed into an uncomfortable fancy outfit.

A dress shirt, jacket, pants, shoes, a tie…everything you could think of. It was why he’d rebelled and hung out with hoodlums, because nobody expected him to be anything other than himself. And as a bonus, he could wear whatever the hell he wanted.

“Yes, that is precisely my point. There is **a** dress shirt, meaning one. I will have to wear something nice too, you know,” the older man pointed out.

A depressing thought occurred to him before he added quietly, “I thought…oh, never mind. It was a silly hope. I suppose all good things must come to an end,” Klink said sadly, unable to keep a gloomy expression from crossing his face.

“Grrrr,” Hogan growled, wanting to shake the older man for talking in circles. “What’s wrong with you now? You look like I just told you I was leaving you behind in London!”

A silent, sad look was his only answer, causing the American general to facepalm.

“For fuck’s sake, Wilhelm! I’m not leaving you behind. If I’d wanted to do that, I would have left you back in Germany,” he pointed out. “I would never just leave somebody stranded in an unknown country. Or in your case, a relatively unknown country. Geez!”

 _What’s with the people around me and not being able to figure out the obvious today?_ he wondered.

“You go wherever I go. We’re a package deal, and if someone won’t let you go with me somewhere, it’s obviously not that important to them that I be there. That’s how it’s going to stay too until you tell me something different,” Hogan declared, hating the betrayed expression on his self-appointed disciplinarian’s face.

“Language, Rob,” Klink said, feeling slightly cheered up. “And if I should decide otherwise at some point?” he asked, testing the waters.

“Then I continuously nag you until you change your mind back to the original plan again,” Hogan said cheerfully, nudging Klink’s shoulder with a chuckle.

“You would, Rob,” replied Klink, rolling his eyes as he nudged his brat back. Hogan never failed to make him smile with his stubbornness and eternal optimism. It was a refreshing quality the former _Kommandant_ found very endearing.

“You’re right, I sure would. I’m telling you, you’re stuck with me,” Hogan said agreeably. “And no matter where you live, I’ll find you and come visit. I can find anyone, anywhere in the world.”

Sighing, Klink responded, “Except for my family, it would seem.”

Hogan hadn’t given him any word on that situation, and he feared the worst by now. His troublemaker turned his head away, intending on looking out the window until he could manage a schooled expression. Yet not quickly enough, for Klink had seen the ‘Crap, I’m caught’ look on his face.

After seeing that expression, Klink was fighting the urge to drive Hogan back to the hotel and give him a sound spanking, despite everything else that was happening so far. “Robert, is there something else you forgot to mention to me previously? Perhaps something you would like to inform me of right now?” he asked slowly.

“Um…I know nothing?” offered Hogan hesitantly, imitating Schultz and continuing to look out the window guiltily. _Aw, hell. Busted!_

“Perhaps you did not hear the question properly,” Klink said irritably before he repeated the question. “Is. There. Something. Else. You. Would. Like. To. Inform. Me. Of. Right. Now?” He made sure to place a pause between each word, trying to make sure the younger officer got the hint. “I saw the look you just had on your face, so do not lie to me.”

“Okay, okay!” said his brat hastily as he held up his hands in surrender. “Your mom is alive. So are your nephews and your brother. They all live at your mom’s house, and they seemed to be doing okay when I talked to them.”

Hogan could see the thunderous look on Klink’s face and swallowed hard. “I didn’t tell her who I was when I talked to her on the phone. I just said I was a friend of yours. And I used the German accent you’ve heard me use, because I thought you should tell her about me. I mean, **if** you tell her about me,” he amended.

Shit, this wasn’t the way Klink was supposed to find out! “Our stuff actually was sent to your mom’s house via a courier, seeing as she said she’d be glad to hold onto it. Oh, and she’s happy you’re alive and well. That’s everything I can think of, I swear! I don’t have any more secrets.”

There were a few minutes of heavy silence, and with each passing minute the American squirmed more and more in his seat. He’d just wanted the German officer to be able to enjoy a vacation for once without having to worry about anything else!

Clearly, that had been the wrong call. He was debating if begging for forgiveness on his knees again once they were back in the hotel room might help his case somehow. While Hogan wasn’t sure if it would this time, it’d worked before!

And that’s when the tall German finally spoke. “Are you certain? Are you absolutely **certain** about that this time around, Robert?” snapped Klink. “Because you make it very difficult for me to believe a word you say! Every time you tell me you are no longer hiding something from me, it turns out to be a lie!”

What had possessed his troublemaker to think that sort of information wasn’t important? What had he been thinking? Actually, never mind. Klink really didn’t want to know. It would most likely only make him more upset.

“Yes, yes! That’s literally everything I can think of,” promised Hogan. He was still squirming uncomfortably, trying to make sure they cleared the air.

“Well, that and the fact I almost clocked a guy for insisting I had to become a two-star general. But I didn’t actually do it, so it’s okay. I did tell him ‘no’ repeatedly, but he kept bugging me about it anyway,” the younger general admitted.

Hogan didn’t want or need any more lies between them. Like everything else always did, that little bit of information was bound to come out eventually as well. So he figured it was best to just admit it now. “I’m not sure if that counts as a secret, but –”

“Fine…wait a just moment. You denied the opportunity to receive a promotion as well?” inquired Klink with a sigh, mentally adding everything he’d been told to the list of transgressions his brat was racking up.

“I have no idea what I am going to do with you, Robert. I really do not. And stop that squirming, unless you want me to give you a **reason** to be sitting uncomfortably!” he added to his former senior POW officer. “It is very annoying to watch.”

“Yes, sir,” Hogan replied obediently, managing to cease what he was doing. The silence hung in the air for another few minutes, until he felt brave enough to speak again.

“So…you were telling me how you wanted to earn some money, but it turned out you didn’t have to?” he prompted, trying to steer the conversation back into safe waters.

“Oh, of course,” the older man said with a nod and a final glare at Hogan. “So I thought I would look for jobs to do to earn British currency after your ceremony. But then a British corporal came up to me and asked me to follow him. I asked the corporal why, and he said that General Tillman Walters wanted to see me. When I got there, the man looked familiar to me somehow. He also stated he knew who I was, but I do not know anyone by that name, Robert,” he said in confusion.

“Yeah you do. But you know him as Corporal Walter Tillman. You know, the firebug you had transferred to a different _stalag_ ,” Hogan supplied, watching the recognition dawn on Klink’s face.

“Oh yes, I remember him,” said Klink with a snap of his long fingers. “Anyway, he handed me a stack of British pounds. He said it was my backpay, whatever that means. He also said that it was considered a lot of money, and he told me that I need to open a bank account to receive further paychecks as well. Finally, General Walters said it was your idea, Robert. I –”

“Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but it wasn’t me. I’ve told you everything **I’ve** done!” Hogan said hastily. “Whatever he did or didn’t do, I’ve got zero knowledge of it. That I can guarantee.”

He figured he’d better cut that line of questioning off at the pass before anything else got tacked on to his eventual spanking. “So what does he consider ‘a lot of money’?”

When Klink named the figure, Hogan’s jaw dropped open. “Holy shit. That’s not a lot of money, that’s more like he had Alfie the Artist rob the Bank of England,” the American general breathed. “He must really like you!”

“Language, Rob. And I suppose so,” Klink allowed as a ‘nasty-happy’ smile crossed his lips. “Which brings me to a suitable punishment…for now.”

Hogan looked around them, wondering what that meant. “For now? And right here, sir?” he asked in confusion.

He knew what Klink **usually** considered a punishment, but they were in public! The ‘for now’ part wasn’t overly encouraging either.

“Oh yes, my little brat. For now. Do not delude yourself into thinking you will be getting out of what is coming to you that easily. That is, when we have both the time and the privacy to take care of the matter. But this will have to suffice for the moment,” the tall German said, enjoying the dismayed look on Hogan’s face.

“It was supposed to be a pleasant thing, you know. A nice gift for you. But as you have now told me that you despise any sort of dress clothes, we are going to go in that store and shop. And you, my dear Robert, are going to both pick out **and** try on different clothing items. We will continue to do so until I have decided upon the perfect thing for you to wear when we see your parents. And I am **very** picky, so expect it to take a few hours,” Klink added with a smirk.

“Of course, it will be an entire outfit. Not just a dress shirt,” he added smugly.

“You can’t be serious,” replied Hogan sulkily. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment!” Though he had to give Klink credit, the German officer knew how to get creative with such things.

“I assure you that I am quite serious, my troublemaker,” Klink said with a nod. “Now, get out of the car and march your behind in there,” he said, pointing at the store.

“Seriously? Please, no. Don’t make me do that,” Hogan pleaded, his gaze shifting between Klink and the storefront. “I’m telling you, I absolutely **hate** places like this. Sir, please!”

With a raised eyebrow, Klink looked at his troublemaker and made a repeated swatting motion with his hand silently. “You heard what I have said. Move it, young man!” he ordered as he successfully avoided smiling.

Hogan had such a sullen look on his face! One might have thought he’d been asked to do the most distasteful job in existence instead of go shopping, because he was **so** not happy.

“The things I do for you,” the American officer grumbled as he got out of the car and shut the door. As Klink got out as well, he shut the door and jerked his head toward the building.

“Come on, Robert. The sooner we go in, the sooner we come out,” said Klink, using an annoyingly cheerful tone on purpose.

“You’re a terrible person and I hate you,” the younger officer grumbled as they neared the door. Sometimes he wondered how he got himself into these messes!

“But you know you love me anyhow.” responded Klink, parroting his brat’s words from earlier. “And you do not hate me, you merely hate being corrected.”

He grabbed the door and held it open, making sure that Hogan had to enter the building first. Personally, Klink had always loved high-end stores like this, even if he didn’t often get to visit them.

“I’m beginning to doubt both of those statements,” was the last thing Hogan said before he reluctantly entered the store, the older man right on his heels. He only hoped he could find something suitable, and fast!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: The original name was ‘Hreodbeorht’ and has been around since the 7th century/600s, when Old English/Anglo-Saxon was spoken. In the 13th century/1200s, the Vikings introduced the name ‘Hrodebert’ and it replaced the previous version. When the name became popular in Continental Europe, the Old French derivative ‘Robert’ was born and has been used ever since.**
> 
> **Werner Klemperer was able to do many things with his accent, from dialing it up to be a lot stronger than he normally did (as you can hear him do in the pilot of the show) to suppressing it completely (like he did in the 1957 movie ‘Kiss Them For Me’.)**
> 
> **I was referencing the pilot, in which Carter is shown to be a lieutenant. Since they didn’t say which one, I made him originally be a second lieutenant.**
> 
> **A second lieutenant is one rank above a sergeant…followed by a first lieutenant and then a captain. After everything they did, the boys got well-deserved promotions. They were promoted so quickly in three years' time due to the continous high risks they took with the operation**
> 
> ****


	15. Meeting The Family, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With business out of the way, it’s time for some pleasure. General Hogan gets to bring General Klink to the United States for the first time! Well, it’s somewhat of a pleasure. The first thing on the agenda is seeing Hogan’s parents, since they want to see their son after three years of not being able to do so. The problem is, will Hogan enjoy seeing _**them**_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Guten abend_ = Good evening  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Herr_ = Mister  
>  _Mein Gott_ = My God  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Kommandanten_ = Commanders

_**Preparations… ** _

After their plane had landed, the two generals had proceeded to rent a car and gotten a hotel room. Not particularly wanting to be trapped in a long conversation with his mom, Hogan had called her long enough to ask if she wanted to meet him and Klink tonight for dinner. After she’d said yes, he’d set his prerequisite of meeting at least three towns over. While she thought he was silly, Mrs. Hogan had agreed to that condition. Then he’d told her they both needed some sleep and hung up.

Both officers had gotten some much-needed rest, and then they’d each showered so that they would smell good. When Klink had walked back into the room clad in only a towel, Hogan had blushed and looked away. And when the tall German had come into the bathroom ten minutes later to grab the cologne he’d forgotten, he’d seen his troublemaker in only a towel after his shower. Stammering an excuse, the older man and spun on his heel and exited the room. In the end, the younger general had brought out the cologne his friend had forgotten to grab to him.

After that, they had gotten dressed in civilian dress clothes, as so not to draw unwanted attention to themselves. Then they’d driven to the restaurant that Hogan’s mother had chosen. While it wasn’t as hot as it would be by mid-July or so, the beginning of June brought warmer weather then Klink was used to in his country. That being said, he and his brat had rolled down the windows on the drive over so the air wouldn’t get stuffy. The German general didn’t have much hair to worry about messing up, but his troublemaker was another matter entirely.

The American’s black hair was a mess after the drive, so the older man had instructed him to comb it. _“Or else I will do it for you,”_ Klink had threatened. After grumbling that it didn’t matter that much, his former senior POW officer had finally done what he was told. Now they were sitting inside the restaurant and talking while they waited for Hogan’s parents.

“How long do you think it will take your parents to arrive, Rob?” asked Klink as they sat in the restaurant. The place was completely empty except for them, as only the wealthy could afford to eat there during to the war. But the owner was an old friend of Hogan’s parents, and so he’d agreed to cook for them tonight.

“I have no idea, Wilhelm. This place is three towns over from where they live, so I guess it just depends on if there’s traffic or not,” Hogan replied.

“Well, whose fault is that? You are the one who insisted on something so far from their home,” Klink pointed out. “Which I still say was completely unnecessary. Your mother cannot possibly be as bad as you say, Rob.”

“Says you,” Hogan grumbled. “Wait until you meet her. There’s no way I was going anywhere near my hometown to do anything. Speaking of which, I need to give my thirty-day notice to my landlord back in Stoneybrook. There’s no reason I should be paying rent on an apartment I’m no longer going to live in, after all. I just have to find a new place first.”

“Yes, that might be a good idea. Why burn one bridge before you have built another one?” Klink asked as he shook his head. “And stop doing that! You will ruin the shirt, and then you will have to get a new one. But maybe that is what you want, an excuse to go shopping. I know how much you enjoyed our last trip to that department store in London,” he teased.

“I still say that was inhumane what you did to me. Who takes three hours to go clothes shopping?” Hogan said testily, yanking at the collar of his dress shirt for the third time since they’d arrived five minutes ago.

With a smirk, Klink said, “I do, for one. And I did warn you beforehand that I was very picky. Besides, it was a punishment for withholding important information from me. I would have drug it out even longer, but you appeared ready to have a nervous breakdown after those three hours. So I took pity on you instead, which you should be grateful for.”

Hogan made a disgusted face as he spoke. “You had me try on literally **everything** there in my size, and that place was huge! That’s not a punishment, Wilhelm. That’s just downright evil. And if that was the punishment, then why did I have to wear these horrid things today?”

Rolling his eyes, the German general said, “Once again, you are being a drama queen, Rob. Besides, why would you buy clothes and then not wear them? I think you look very nice,” he added.

While the tall German wore the same dress clothes he’d worn back at Stalag 13 after they’d done laundry, Hogan’s were brand new and still slightly stiff. His former senior POW officer wore an emerald green dress shirt, black dress slacks, and black dress shoes. The tie he wore was a silver color, which set everything else off. They also made his black hair and brown eyes look even darker than they actually were. But he wasn’t happy about it at all, and he’d bitched about having to wear them almost constantly since they’d left the hotel.

“To answer your question, this is your punishment for not telling me about what Schultz knew before he did. You led me to believe that you had told me everything already, and I abhor a liar,” the former _Kommandant_ remarked. “Now stop doing that!” he said as he slapped his troublemaker’s hand away from his shirt.

“I can’t help it! These stupid things are driving me nuts, and the fact that you made me wear them at all is cruel and unusual punishment. And you even made me comb my hair where we got out of the car too. Seriously, do you think I’m a little kid or something?” the American general griped.

Raising his eyebrows, the German officer asked, “Do you really want the answer to that, Rob?”

“No,” Hogan huffed irritably, peeved that he felt obliged to listen to his self-appointed disciplinarian. Changing the subject, he asked, “Did you bring the gift with you?”

“Of course I did. I made sure it was securely in my pocket, along with my wallet,” Klink replied. “I still find it hard to believe that they offered to pay for our meal. That was very generous of them.”

“Yeah well, they’re well-off. They don’t usually act like it, but they are. And like you’ve said before, they haven’t seen me in a few years. I’m sure they just want to catch up and all, learn what’s new in my life,” Hogan replied.

He stiffened in his chair as something occurred to him. “You’re not going to bring up our arrangement, are you? I’m not sure if my dad knows or not. If he doesn’t, I’d like to keep it that way.”

With a shake of his head, the older man said, “As long as they do not bring it up first, I will say nothing about it. But if one of them asks me a question about the arrangement, I will answer it honestly. However, your mother did inform me that she was going to tell your father about everything after our phone call that day. Now whether she ended up doing so or not, I do not know.”

The younger man let out a groan and buried his face in his hands. “Fucking magical. Just what I always wanted, for my dad to think I’m some pushover. Great, just great.”

“Watch your mouth, Rob,” Klink admonished him. “Do you want your parents to think you learned nothing from your three years studying abroad over in Germany?”

Giving the tall German a glare, Hogan replied, “Studying abroad? Is that what you’re calling it now?”

With a shrug, Klink said, “I think it was a great cultural opportunity for you. You had the chance to be completely immersed in a different culture than your own, and to speak a foreign language quite often. You got to see a different country as well, and you fine-tuned the art of manipulating different people to boot. So yes, studying abroad.”

“Are you kidding me? The only place I got to see was the inside of Stalag 13,” his former senior POW officer snapped. “And most of the people I dealt with spoke English.” He couldn’t believe the strange spin that the older officer was putting on this.

“Oh, do not start that nonsense with me. You and I both know you probably saw more of the nearby towns in the last three years than I have,” Klink pointed out. “Certainly, you saw more of Paris than I did. I seem to have been confined to a jail cell for most of my first trip there,” he added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, and we already resolved that problem too. Believe me, I remember the end result very well,” Hogan shot back as he blushed. “But you make it sound like I was on vacation or something.”

“I suppose we could call it ‘an impromptu trip overseas instead’, if you like,” responded the former _Kommandant_ with a knowing grin.

“No! I…” Hogan trailed off as he saw his friend’s expression change. “Ugh, you were just messing with me this whole time?”

“My word, it certainly took you long enough to figure that out, Rob,” said Klink playfully. “Usually, you are far quicker on the sketch.”

“It’s ‘draw’, not ‘sketch’,” said Hogan in an amused tone of voice. “I think it’s funny how you mix up American idioms sometimes. You’re so adorable when you do that, you know,” Hogan replied just as playfully. And he really did. While his friend spoke English fluently, sometimes he messed up certain phrases in the most interesting ways.

“I am not ‘adorable’ in any way, Rob,” Klink said haughtily, managing not to blush at that innocent statement. “I am dignified. There is a big difference.”

“Uh-huh, suuuuure. Whatever you say, Wilhelm,” Hogan teased.

Ignoring that comeback in favor of not starting a fight, Klink changed the subject. “I hope your parents like me. If you sense they are feeling uncomfortable in any way, just let me know somehow. Then I will make my excuses and wait for you in the car.”

He hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but at the same time he knew not everyone would be as welcoming to him as his troublemaker. The older man was no fool, and he realized that many people would dislike him simply because of his heritage.

“If they feel uncomfortable, we'll **both** be leaving,” Hogan growled. “I told you before, I’m not gonna let anyone make you feel bad just because they can’t overcome a few prejudices. I was a prisoner of war in a camp that **you** ran, for cripes’ sake. If anything, **I’m** the one who’s got a right to be prejudiced towards you. But if I can see past the uniform to the decent human being underneath, then nobody else has any excuse not to do the same thing. Like it or lump it, that’s just the way it is,” he finished.

“You seem very dead set on that idea. Stubborn much, Rob?” Klink asked with a smile as he stood up. He appreciated how passionate his brat was in that regard, but he also knew it wasn’t the most practical approach.

“You know it,” said the American officer with a wink. “Why are you standing up? If you’re wondering where the bathrooms are, they’re behind you,” he added. His chair was to the back of the restaurant’s entrance, so he couldn’t see what his friend was seeing.

“Ah…no. That is not the case,” the German said with amusement. “But it is generally good manners to rise when a lady approaches the area in which you are sitting. I am guessing that lady in question is your mother, because the gentleman with her looks like an older version of you, little brat.”

The unknown couple was almost to their table by now, but the younger man was still seated since he hadn’t gotten the hint. Then Klink hissed, “Stand up so you do not come across as rude!”

“A lady…oh!” replied Hogan before he jumped to his feet. “Shit, why didn’t you say it was my parents?”

“I did, albeit in a roundabout way. And watch your language, Rob,” the tall German said. Then he stepped back out of the way so that the elder Hogans could greet their son.

_**A somewhat joyful reunion… ** _

“Son, it’s good to see you again!” John Hogan exclaimed as he gave the American general a half hug and a clap on the back. He looked like an older version of his son, with the same black hair and brown eyes. Except for the silver streaks in his hair and the age difference, the two men could’ve been brothers instead.

Then he gave the older man with Hogan a curious look, having heard him telling his son to watch his mouth. The statement indicated that they were on friendly terms to him, which was a bit strange given the situation and where his wife had told him the two had met. Technically, this whole situation was strange anyway.

“Yes, it is. We’ve missed so much, Robbie!” Emma Hogan added. She wrapped her son in a hug and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Unlike her son and husband, she had pure, snow white hair that had once been blonde. She also had bottle green eyes, and the same mischief sparkled in them that Klink sometimes saw in his brat’s eyes.

Hearing the nickname, the German officer merely snickered quietly. _Robbie. Oh, that is just too good,_ he thought.

“Mom!” Hogan groaned as he wiped the lipstick off of his face.

“What? After three years, I’m not allowed to give my son a kiss on the cheek?” she asked. “Is this the friend you told us about, Robbie?”

Having heard the snickering, the younger general shot the tall German a glare. And it only deepened when Klink gave him a perfectly innocent look in return. “Mom, Dad…this is my friend, Wilhelm Klink. General Wilhelm Klink of the _Luftwaffe_ , I should say,” he clarified.

Then he turned to his friend and added, “Wilhelm, these are my parents…John and Emma Hogan.”

Nodding his thanks for the introduction, the former _Kommandant_ gave Hogan’s mom a half bow from the waist. “Hello, and _guten abend_ …er, I mean, good evening. A pleasure to meet you, _Frau_ Hogan,” he said politely. He was far too used to his former senior POW officer’s understanding of his native tongue to remember that he needed to use an English greeting at first.

Then he turned to Hogan’s dad and repeated the same bow. “Hello, and good evening to you as well, _Herr_ Hogan. It is a pleasure to meet you also.”

Emma grinned, and her lopsided smile was shown to be identical to her son’s. “Oh my. You have impeccable manners, General Klink,” she said as she shook his hand.

“I have to agree with my wife, General. But if it’s all the same to you, we’re not that formal here,” John added as he shook the older man’s hand.

“Er, well, then please call me Wilhelm. Both of you,” Klink finally said. “I was not certain how much I would be…Rob, stop that!” he snapped as he noticed his friend yanking at his dress shirt yet again.

“Ahem. I do apologize for my rudeness, _Herr_ Hogan. But Rob has been yanking at his dress shirt since he put it on, and I fear he is going to rip it,” Klink hastened to explain. “As I was saying, I was not certain how much I would be welcome at this gathering,” he added.

As Emma chuckled in the background, Mr. Hogan spoke to the tall German. “I can do that, so long as you call me John. And Robbie insisted on the phone that you were a good friend, so you’re plenty welcome here. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t agree to meet us unless you were welcome to come too,” he said. “Now, let’s all sit down and order some food. Jake makes the best food around, and I’m starved.”

“I have to admit John’s right, Wilhelm. This place serves a little of everything, but Jake can do it all,” Mrs. Hogan chimed in as she took her seat. “And call me Emma, please.”

“Really? I was not aware of that fact,” Klink said slowly as he gave his friend a questioning look. “I must have not been in the room to hear it. I do apologize for that ultimatum.”

“Knock it off, Wilhelm,” Hogan said irritably, growing tired of his friend feeling insecure about his place in the American’s life. “I’ve told you before, you’re stuck with me.”

“Yes, you have told me that before,” the German general said with a sigh. “You have a mulish streak a mile wide.”

“And don’t you forget it!” his former senior POW officer said cheerfully. Then he scowled again as he messed with his shirt again, this time tugging on the sleeve.

Turning to her son, Emma said, “Wipe that look off your face, Robbie. I think you look very nice, though I’m wondering what miracle it took to get you to willingly dress up.”

“You’re sitting next to the miracle,” Hogan said sulkily. “Wilhelm said I needed to look nice for the occasion, since I haven’t seen you guys in three years. As you already know, I’d much prefer to be wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. He even made me comb my hair after the drive. It was only a little messy, but you’d have thought I had complete bedhead,” he finished in an unhappy tone of voice.

“A **little** messy? Robert, you looked as if you had stuck your hair in a blender,” Klink deadpanned, earning himself a dirty look. “One does not dress up nicely and then walk around looking disheveled. It is a matter of aesthetic,” he explained.

“You got **my** son to dress up willingly?” John asked with a stunned expression. “Do you have any idea how many times we had to threaten him with death and dismemberment before he’d cooperate with us on regarding that topic?”

“Once again, I agree with you, John,” said Mrs. Hogan. “Wilhelm, how did you accomplish that feat?”

But before the older man could answer, Hogan’s parents shared a look. All was quiet for a minute or two, until his mom said slowly, “Wait a minute. Klink…I’ve heard that name before. I thought at first you were just another friend of Robbie’s, but I knew it was familiar to me for some reason.”

She looked at the German officer, who appeared to be slightly confused by that statement. “By chance, did you run a prisoner of war camp in Germany that you called me from? Stalag something?”

Nodding, Klink replied, “Stalag 13, yes. I was its _Kommandant_ , or commander,” he said carefully. “That is where Rob and I first met.”

Emma snapped her fingers. “Of course, I remember now! That was the strangest phone call I’ve ever gotten, but I was still glad to get the news that my son was alive and well. Well, maybe not as well as he would’ve liked,” she said with a laugh.

Then the German general shared a glance of his own with his troublemaker. His look asked an unspoken question, and Hogan shook his head quickly.

Looking back at the elder Hogans, the tall German said diplomatically, “In answer to your question, Emma…let us just say that Rob and I have an understanding. That is all I can say at this time. It is not my place to reveal any more than that.”

Yet it was then that Mrs. Hogan addressed the silent elephant in the room. “Translation: you spank him when he doesn’t listen to you. In turn, you get him to actually behave like an adult for a change.”

She turned to her husband and said, “Remember, John? This is the man I told you about. He’s managed to teach our Robbie to be respectful at last, after all these years of him doing the exact opposite.”

“Mom!” the American officer groaned as he blushed and slunk down in his chair. “Why would you even say that out loud? It’s so embarrassing.”

He gave Klink another dirty look, who only shrugged in response. “I said nothing about it first, Robert. Your mother asked me a question, and I answered it. Do not blame me for this.”

John opened his mouth to join in the conversation, but a waiter came by and handed them their menus before he could. He also brought them all a glass of water before he left again.

Changing the subject, the older general asked his former senior POW officer, “So…what type of food is good here, Rob?”

Sitting up straight again, Hogan gave his friend a grateful glance for the subject change before he said, “All of it, really. It just depends on what you like.”

Klink considered that before he responded, “But I do not know what I like or do not like. I have never had American cuisine at all, except for the French toast and the tacos you made back at the camp,” he stated.

“Wait, hold on just a minute,” John said, getting distracted from what he’d been going to previously say. “You made French toast, Robbie? And tacos too?”

“That’s what I’m wondering as well,” Emma chimed in. She gave the former _Kommandant_ a glance as she added, “Wilhelm, are you sure that it wasn’t something his French friend made instead? LeBeau, I think his name was?”

“Quite sure, madam. Corporal LeBeau had already departed the camp, along with everyone else. Well, Second Lieutenant LeBeau now, I suppose. Nevertheless, it was only Robert and myself left at Stalag 13. And I watched him make the food anyhow,” Klink said proudly, pleased at the pleasant shock that this news seemed to bring his troublemaker’s parents.

“Since when do you cook, Robbie? You’re about as useless as I am in the kitchen,” John pointed out.

“Hey, it was a matter of life or death. Literally, because we were the only ones there to cook anything. And there were no restaurants open anymore, nor did we have any money to buy anything even if there had been. So we had to figure it out,” Hogan said indignantly.

“True, but a life or death situation doesn’t magically give you a needed skill, Robbie,” Mrs. Hogan said. “What I want to know is where you learned to cook at all.”

“Mom, please give me a little bit of credit here. You’ve had me peel enough potatoes and chop plenty of onions for you whenever you would prepare meals for all of us. I’ve watched you a few times, and I can do basic stuff,” the American general replied as he turned to Klink. “Figure out what you want yet, Wilhelm?”

“I think so,” his friend replied. He’d been pouring over the menu while his friend talked with his mother. “I have heard other Americans say hamburgers are good. But surely they do not import the meat all the way from Germany. Do they?” he asked Hogan.

“Um…what? Where did that come from?” asked Mr. Hogan in confusion. “Hamburger is meat from a cow. What’s Germany got to do with it?”

“Dad, there’s a town in Germany called Hamburg, which is why Wilhelm was confused. He thought the meat was shipped from there. What you just heard is part of the language barrier that happens sometimes,” Hogan explained before he turned back to Klink and answered the question. “No, silly. It’s made in America, I promise. Is that what you want?”

“I…I think so,” Klink replied uncertainly. “Does rare, medium-rare, medium-well and well done mean the same things that they do for a steak? Or am I misunderstanding something again?”

“Nope, the terms are the same,” the younger officer told him with a smile. “How do you want your burger cooked?”

“Medium-well, please,” Klink said politely.

“Gotcha. And what do you want on it?” Hogan asked his friend.

“Er…whatever you think would be best,” said the tall German with a shrug. “I am not familiar with how one should taste, so I will bow to your experience in this matter.”

“But it’s your food, not mine. What if I tell them to put something on it that you don’t like?” his former senior POW officer inquired curiously.

“You have never steered me wrong yet, Rob. I trust you with my life, so surely trusting you to handle my food is not that big of an issue,” Klink remarked.

“Okay…wait, you trust me with your life? Since when?” Hogan repeated in amazement.

With a smirk, the older man said, “Indeed, and since the very first time you smoothed over a bad situation with myself and General Burkhalter. For most of the time I have known you, however, it was only somewhat knowingly. But now I am fully aware of what I am doing in that regard, and my views have not changed at all,” Klink stated firmly.

“ **Somewhat** knowingly?” Hogan repeated, wondering what that was supposed to mean. “I thought you said that you didn’t know anything about what we were really doing all this time!”

“I did not,” Klink replied smoothly. “But you cannot deny that every time I needed your silver tongue to save my hide, you were able to make sure everything worked out in the end. Despite being a troublemaker at times, you are a decent and honorable man, Robert.”

“A troublemaker?” repeated Emma, who had been listening to their conversation with interest. It was even more obvious to her now that her son and the tall German were good friends.

“What kind of nickname is that?” John questioned curiously.

“An accurate one, believe me,” Klink said as their waiter arrived, saving him from a further explanation.

Then he fell silent and sipped his water while his brat ordered for both of them. Hogan had decided to get a hamburger as well, so they got the same exact thing. Surprisingly, they liked their meat cooked the same way.

Hogan’s dad had decided to get the lobster and clam chowder combo, since his wife flat-out refused to cook or buy seafood for him. She hated both the smell and the taste of it, so he was reduced to eating it whenever they went out to eat if he so desired.

After much debate, Hogan’s mom finally ordered the taquito and cheesy rice plate. The options for it were all beef taquitos, all chicken taquitos, or three of each. She wanted a little of each, so she got the mix ‘n match one.

_**Things go south… ** _

After the waiter had left with both their order requests and the menus, Klink snapped his slender fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot!”

Then he dug out his wallet and pulled out the polar bear earrings. Handing them to Mrs. Hogan, he said, “These are for you, Emma.”

“Ohhh, these are so beautiful! Thank you, Wilhelm. How very thoughtful of you,” Emma said as she patted him on the hand. “I’ll give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek for these before we leave.”

The earrings were made of sterling silver and shaped like a polar bear. The polar bear itself was finely detailed, and its eyes were two pieces of black onyx gemstone.

“You are very welcome, madam. Rob helped me pick these out for you. I asked him what you might like, and he said polar bears, so…” Klink trailed off and looked over at Mr. Hogan instead.

Then the German general said hesitantly, "As I am aware of how giving Emma jewelry may look to you, I thought I would say this up front. I am not trying to declare any sort of romantic intentions toward your wife, John. I would have brought something for you as well, but neither Rob nor I could figure out what you might enjoy. And my mother taught me that you always bring a gift when you visit someone, because it is good manners to do so."

Klink shrugged and added, "If you like, I can...oh, I do not know. Perhaps I can cook you one of your favorite meals sometime instead. I know it is hardly an adequate gift, but –”

"It's fine, Wilhelm. I get what you’re saying. Don't worry about it." John gave the older man a curious look, wondering if that was a common misunderstanding in Germany.

"But that sounds like a plan to me. You know how to cook too?" he asked in surprise. “Most guys would burn water if they tried to boil it.”

“I can make some things, yes,” the former _Kommandant_ said equivocally. “As long as you are not one for gourmet foods or something terribly complicated, I am sure I can reasonably manage.”

With a laugh, Hogan’s dad replied, “Well, that depends on how complicated you think chili dogs and chili cheese fries are to make.”

“Chili dogs?” Klink repeated in a puzzled tone, not knowing what that was. “That is what it sounds like, yes? Chili poured over a…a hot dog?” he questioned, making sure he had that right.

“You got it. And chili cheese fries are French fries with chili poured over them and topped with cheese,” John confirmed with a grin.

Looking baffled at the strange foods Americans could come up with, Klink nodded his head. “As long as I have a recipe to follow, I can manage that the next time we meet,” he decided.

“Good. Then it’s settled,” Mr. Hogan replied with a smile.

Then he focused his gaze on his son and asked curiously, “So, Robbie. Anything you might have done before you left the States notwithstanding, how did you earn the nickname ‘troublemaker’?”

Hogan gave his friend yet another dirty look as he reluctantly answered his dad’s question. “I **may** have caused a few problems in Wilhelm’s camp –”

“Merely a few? Try a few hundred,” the older officer muttered.

“– but other than that, I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve been a perfect angel,” Hogan finished, ignoring the interruption.

The sheer nerve it took to utter that falsehood had Klink rolling his eyes. “Rob, it is not good to tell lies. Especially when one is talking to one’s parents,” he said reasonably.

“Wilhelm?” Hogan asked his friend sweetly, uncaring of where this might lead at the moment.

“Yes, Robert?” Klink replied just as sweetly, wondering what he was going to say now.

“Shut up. I don’t need your assistance right now,” the American general said heatedly.

“Robbie!” gasped his mother. “Where are your manners? I raised you better than that!”

Then she looked over at Klink, who had merely raised his eyebrows at the show of disrespect. “Wilhelm, I can see now why you’ve had to spank him so much if this is how my son talks to you,” she said, giving said son a warning glare.

“Mom! Be quiet and quit embarrassing me,” Hogan griped, turning red as he slumped down in his chair again.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that, son. You were the one who was rude first,” his dad pointed out. “I’m of the opinion now that we should have corrected you in that way to begin with. Frankly, the people at our church agree.”

“What? You told the people at your church?!” Hogan gasped as a nervous look appeared on his face. “Please tell me you didn’t tell Mrs. Merriweather, at least.”

John looked amused now as he spoke. “Mrs. Merriweather is a good friend of ours, Robbie. She’s the first person your mother told. Needless to say, you’ve been a prime example of ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ for the last few weeks.”

Groaning, Hogan blushed a dark red as he covered his face with his hands. Still, his words were heard quite clearly. “Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

By this point, Klink had had enough of his brat’s disrespectful attitude. “Robert, I need to speak to you alone for a few minutes. Come with me, please.”

Then he looked at both of Hogan’s parents in turn. “Please excuse us momentarily,” he added politely. Klink remembered what manners were, even if his former senior POW officer didn’t!

The younger officer uncovered his face with his hands and shot back, “Well, I don’t want to – hey!” he exclaimed in surprise as he was yanked out of his seat. Then he was frog marched far enough away where his parents couldn’t hear their conversation.

_**The warning… ** _

“Robert, have you lost your mind?” Klink hissed once they were far enough away from the table. “You are being a pain in the butt, even more so than usual. What is **wrong** with you today?”

Hogan gave him a withering glare as he yanked his arm free of Klink’s grip. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with **you?** You yanked me out of my chair and dragged me over here like I’m five years old!”

His friend returned the glare as he responded, “You are **acting** as if you are five years old! You were rude to me first, all because I pointed out that you have been anything **but** an angel when you tried to claim otherwise. Then when your mother called you out on it, you were rude to her as well. Your father merely made a valid point about discipline, and he also informed you what had been said about you at their church. So why would you speak to him in such a manner?” Klink demanded hotly.

“In what type of manner?” Hogan shot back. “You heard him yourself. I’ve been the main topic at their church for weeks! And Mrs. Merriweather is the second biggest gossip in town, which means anyone my mom didn’t already tell about this whole thing, **she** did!” He was mortified beyond belief right now at the way things were going.

“That may be, but that does not excuse your actions, Robert. _Mein Gott,_ you swore at your own father! You said, and I quote, ‘what the f is wrong with you guys?’ Only you used the full curse word,” the tall German said in exasperation.

“What part of ‘I’ve been the main topic at their church for weeks’ didn’t you get, Wilhelm? I feel so humiliated right now,” his former senior POW officer whined.

“I am sorry about that, but I **have** warned you before to think before you speak. I have warned you so many times about that, it should be your new mantra, Robert,” Klink replied wearily.

“Now, we are going to stand here for a few minutes until you can compose yourself and remember your manners. And then we are going to rejoin your parents at the table. At that point, you will apologize to each of them individually for being so rude. Understand?” the older man asked his friend.

“You’re crazy! I’m not doing any such thing,” the American general said haughtily.

“Oh, yes you are,” said Klink. “Your parents will most likely ask me questions about what has been happening at Stalag 13, which is to be expected. If they do, I will be answering them. I also understand you will be embarrassed about the topic at hand, but you brought this whole thing on yourself,” he pointed out.

“Should they ask you a question, I will attempt to answer in your stead…unless it is something that I cannot possibly answer. But you will remain civil for the rest of this evening, not sulky or sullen in any way. Otherwise, I promise you that we will be putting on a live demonstration of how I correct your brattiness. Do I make myself clear, young man?” Klink demanded as he tried to figure out what had his friend in such a foul mood.

“No, because it’s not happening,” Hogan said stubbornly as he crossed his arms. “Forget it. You can fuck off if you think I’d let that happen. For that matter, so can they.”

Without any warning, Klink quickly reached around and gave his troublemaker two firm swats on his butt, one to each sit spot. **SMACK! SMACK!**

“Watch your mouth…and how about now, Robert? Has your decision changed yet?” he inquired pleasantly. Despite the tone of voice, there was an underlying warning that couldn’t be missed.

“Do keep in mind that my memory is excellent. And you should also remember that we still have not yet settled the whole matter of you failing to inform me of where **my** family was. Or about what Schultz knew about your extracurricular activities during the war, either. Do you really want this event added onto that punishment?” Klink asked. “I can guarantee you that it will not be pleasant as it stands right now, but it is your call if you would like to make things worse.”

His friend jumped at the unexpected smacks to his rear end. “Ow, ow! No!” he replied sullenly. He remembered the last time he’d done that. It wasn’t a road he wanted to go down again!

“No…what? No, I am not being clear? No, you will not do as you are told? Or no, you do not want this whole matter added onto your that punishment? Please clarify that for me,” Klink requested nonchalantly.

“No, I don’t want this matter added onto that punishment,” Hogan said, his tone of voice changing to a sulky one instead. Damnmit, he hated it when the former _Kommandant_ outmaneuvered him.

“Good. Then take a few minutes to calm yourself down, and then we shall return to the table,” Klink said firmly.

“I hate you so much right now,” his friend grumbled.

“I am certain that you do for the moment,” the older man agreed. “But I am also certain that you will appreciate what I am doing down the road, when you still have a family to associate with in the future.”

“You’re always so mean to me. I don’t know why I even talk to you,” Hogan stated as he pouted.

“Because whether you want to admit it or not, you know I care about you,” Klink replied with an eye roll. Then he nudged his former senior POW officer’s shoulder playfully.

“Cheer up, Robert. Look at it this way…after tonight, you never have to see your parents again if you do not want to. I would advise against doing so, however, since family is a precious commodity. But that will be a decision you must make later on in life, not right this second,” the German officer added.

Taking a deep breath, Hogan let it out again as he remarked, “I’d be happy if I never saw them ever again. Come to think of it, starting right now would be ideal.” 

Klink’s voice took on a serious tone as he gave his brat some advice. “Be careful what you wish for or you just might get it. Once you alienate someone in such a way, they never return. I have had that happen many times in my life, and I do not want to see you walk that path if you do not need to. I am only trying to help you right now. I hope you know that, my friend.”

Letting out a heavy sigh and slumping his shoulders, the American officer responded, “Yeah, I know. I don’t like it, but I’m fully aware of it anyway.” 

“I am glad to hear that answer,” the older man acknowledged with a nod. “So, are you ready to return to the table now? **Without** sulking, sounding sullen or being rude to anyone?”

“I guess so. Let’s just get this night over with so we can leave,” Hogan said dejectedly as he looked at his feet in shame. _How in the hell did I go from being right to feeling like a heel that quickly?_ he wondered. _Man, and_ ** _I_** _thought I was a master manipulator!_

Cocking his head, Klink asked, “Do you promise? I would like us to have a nice evening, not have to spend it doing damage control instead.”

Nodding his head in resignation, the younger man replied, “Yes, I promise. I’m not happy about it, but I’ll do it.”

“That is all I ask of you. Now, please look at me for a moment, Rob,” Klink requested in a gentle tone of voice.

As Hogan looked up, he asked reluctantly, “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing. I merely wanted to tell you that you are doing the right thing, and that I am proud of you. Even if you are a brat, you are still **my **brat,” said the tall German as he gave the American a half-hug.

“And I am still sitting next to you, so feel free to latch onto my hand or arm if you feel the need for some type of support to get you through this ordeal. Sometimes a mere touch works wonders to aid a person in voicing their thoughts,” Klink offered.

Despite himself, Hogan had to smile as he shook his head. “I’ll keep it in mind, but I still say you’re nuts. You do know that, right?” he inquired as they walked back toward the table.

“Perhaps I am. However, it does takes one to know one,” Klink teased his friend.

“Aw, knock it off…Ol’ Blood and Guts,” Hogan said playfully.

“Only if you do the same…Papa Bear,” Klink replied just as playfully.

Then the two officers looked at each other and grinned. Yeah, their world was definitely mixed up and backwards. But still, they wouldn’t change it for a thing. And that was what stuck in their minds as they reached the table again.

_**A parental discussion… ** _

Meanwhile at the table, John looked at his wife with a puzzled look. “Should we interfere? I mean, he just marched Robbie over there like it was something they do all the time.”

“No, let’s see what happens. Maybe it **is** something they do all the time. I told you before how Wilhelm’s been keeping Robbie in check, right?” Emma asked her husband.

“You said something about him spanking our son once or twice, honey. That was all you told me,” Mr. Hogan responded.

“Oh, Robbie’s had it happen a lot more than once or twice from what I understand, sweetheart. And every last one was warranted, along with the appropriate implement severity. But don’t worry, I’ll ask him to tell you when they come back,” replied Mrs. Hogan, who was watching the pair have their private conversation. “In any event, I’m pretty sure Wilhelm’s got the situation under control. Just watch their body language and see.”

John turned to see what his wife was talking about. He could see the older man gesturing at random times, along with their son. While he couldn’t hear what they were saying, Robert was clearly losing the argument based off of what his body language was saying. Then they saw the German officer give the younger general two firm swats on his bottom, which caused the American to jump in surprise before slumping his shoulders shortly thereafter.

They also saw Klink nudge their son’s shoulder and say something before Robert looked at his feet. Finally, they saw the German general give the former senior POW officer a half hug. After seeing that, Mr. and Mrs. Hogan grinned at each other as the pair headed back their way, smiles on their faces.

“I think I like Wilhelm,” John decided with a nod of his head. “He’s a good counterbalance for Robbie’s impulsiveness. I mean, did you just see all the same things I just saw?”

“I agree. Just the fact that our son listens to him at all speaks volumes,” Emma replied. “And I sure did. I don’t know what Wilhelm said to him, but I know what I saw in Robbie’s body language. Those two are close friends, whether they want to admit it or not. Maybe more,” she said thoughtfully.

“What do you mean by ‘maybe more’, Emma?” Hogan’s dad asked in a puzzled voice.

“Don’t worry, John. I’ll tell you once we’re back home,” Hogan’s mom said as the two officers came back to the table with smiles on their faces.

_**Stiff apologies… ** _

“I do apologize for our impromptu departure, John and Emma. But I needed to have a few words with Rob in private,” said Klink as they sat back down again. He waited for Hogan to speak, but he wasn’t saying anything so far. As a reminder, he gave his brat the evil eye.

Hogan saw the look that his friend was giving him and sighed. Remembering his promise not to be sulky, he took a deep breath and let it out before he cleared his throat. “Ahem. Excuse me, Dad?”

“Yes, Robbie? What is it?” asked his dad curiously.

“I, I…” Remembering what the former _Kommandant_ had said to him a few minutes ago, he reached and squeezed his friend’s arm for support. He would’ve grabbed his hand, but that might send the wrong message. The American general also didn’t want to have to repeat his apology, so he kept it more formal than he normally would have done.

Letting out a sigh, Hogan said, “I’m sorry for swearing at you, sir. That wasn’t okay for me to do, and I hope you can forgive me for it.”

It galled him to even have to say the words, but he managed it anyway. He had plenty of time to worry about his wounded pride later. Much later, like after he was back in Germany to visit Klink’s family.

John thought his eyes might bug out of his head when his son spoke to him. Robert had never been that sincere in his life! And any time he apologized, it was always just short of disrespectful.

“Of course, son. But don’t do it again, okay?” he finally said.

“Yes sir, I understand,” Hogan said with a sharp nod. Then he turned to his mom, who looked surprised at what she’d just witnessed.

“Mom? Is it okay if I say something to you?” he asked hesitantly.

“Go for it, Robbie,” Mrs. Hogan said, wondering if he was going to apologize to her as well.

Hogan’s hand was trembling as he sucked in air through his teeth. Needing every ounce of support he could get, he kept a death grip on the older general’s arm.

“I’m sorry for back-talking and being rude to you, ma’am. That wasn’t okay for me to do either. And I also hope you can forgive me for it,” he said. Somehow, he managed to sound both reluctant and sincere at the same time as he spoke.

If Emma had been merely surprised before he’d said anything, she was stunned now. Who exactly was Wilhelm Klink that he was able to work these kinds of miracles with her thick-headed son? “Of course I do, baby. Just think before you speak next time, alright?”

“Yes ma’am, I understand,” Hogan replied with another sharp nod.

He didn’t want to apologize to Klink right now. He really, **really** didn’t. He wanted to apologize to his friend once they were alone in their hotel, but he knew his parents would insist upon it anyway if he didn’t do it of his own free will. And that meant he had to swallow the remainder of his pride in order to speak the words he wished he didn’t have to say at all.

Turning in his seat to face the tall German, he noticed a look of pride on Klink’s face. _Klink’s proud of me? Damn, why does that suddenly make me feel better?_ Hogan wondered. _Screw it, I’ll worry about that later._

“Wilhelm, I need to tell you something,” he began. His back had gone ramrod stiff, and every muscle in his body was taut like a piano wire. Anybody with eyes could see it, especially as he was literally shaking from nerves. “I –”

“If you are going to offer me an apology, do not worry about it right now. I can see that you are tense enough to dent steel at the moment,” the former _Kommandant_ interrupted his troublemaker gently. “We do not need an audience for this, so save it for later on. Okay, Rob?”

“O-okay,” Hogan said, his body deflating like a balloon at those words. All the tension had left at once, giving the illusion of a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Thank you, my friend,” he added with a faint smile.

“You are most welcome, Rob,” said Klink, returning the smile as their food finally arrived at the table.

_**Good questions, better answers… ** _

There was nothing but silence for the next half hour as the four of them ate their dinner. Everyone was still mulling over what had happened that night. The German officer was unbelievably proud of his brat for keeping his word, even though he knew it had to have been demeaning to do so.

Still, Hogan had humbled himself anyway and done it. That was why Klink hadn’t let his friend offer him an apology as well. He knew there was only so much one person could handle at a time. Mental stress was also by far harder to gage than physical stress, because you couldn’t visibly see the toll it was taking on someone until it was too late.

Mr. and Mrs. Hogan were still in shock about a lot of things. While their son had always walked a fine line between mouthy and outright disrespectful, he’d always known how far he could go without crossing it. Tonight had been the first time Robert had ever crossed that line, and it disturbed them somewhat.

Even so, he’d obviously made a good friend while he was off fighting in the war. Klink seemed to not only care about the American general, he knew him well enough to be able to read him like a book. Personally, Emma was inclined to believe that something else was going on with those two. John was just happy there was someone out there who didn’t let Robbie boss him around.

Finally, Hogan was thankful that Klink had given him some words of wisdom. Now that his anger had cooled, he could see that alienating his parents would’ve been a bad move. He was also thankful that the older man had stopped him from issuing his last apology. The younger officer had felt how tense he’d been when he’d started to offer it, and obviously the German one had picked up on that.

After their meals were done and their plates were cleared away, John couldn’t hold his question in any longer. “Okay, so spill. How long have you **really** known Robbie?” he asked Klink. “Nobody just happens to be able to manage what you’ve done so far tonight. Not when they’ve only known somebody for three years.”

“I can assure you, John, I did not know Rob until the beginning of 1942. We have only known each other a little over three years now,” said the tall German calmly.

“Then how did you pull that off?” John demanded, not satisfied with the answer that he’d been given. “Robbie’s always been…um…”

“You’ve always been a wild child, Robbie. I think that’s what your father is trying to say,” Emma cut in. “We’ve always had to threaten to have you drawn and quartered before you ever considered listening to us, no matter how many extra chores we gave you to do.”

Looking at Klink, she added, “I don’t know what divine power sent you into my son’s life, but he should be thanking his lucky stars that you two ever met,” she added.

“Mom, please,” Hogan said as he blushed. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“I have to concur, Emma,” added Klink, looking uncomfortable with such high praise. “I just seem to have that effect on Rob. We have interacted many times every day for the last three years, so of course we got to know one another well. We also learned how to read each other, and to know when the other one was overly stressed out. It was not too difficult to do.”

“But doesn’t the senior POW officer only have to report to the person running the place once a day?” John asked in confusion. “That’s the position our son said he held at your camp in his letters home. And you said before that the guy in charge is called the _Kommandant_ in German, right?”

“Yes, you are correct,” Klink said with a nod of his head. “And technically that is true. But Rob visited me several times each day, even though he was not required to by the rules of civilized warfare or the Geneva Convention. He called it ‘brightening up my day’,” the German general deadpanned.

“Hey! You know you liked it,” Hogan responded as he laughed.

“That is true enough. It was far better than when you decided to ‘make my day more interesting’,” Klink said as he rolled his eyes.

“Look, it got you out of doing all the boring paperwork you were doing at the time, right? Berlin and their friggin I-need-a-bazillion-handwritten-copies-of-everything selves barely had time to ask you for **one** copy of something before they got distracted by whatever I had done that day. So it all worked out,” his former senior POW officer shot back smugly.

“Yes, but then you created **new** paperwork that I had to fill out instead due to your tomfoolery, Rob!” the former _Kommandant_ remarked with a sigh.

“Look, no plan is perfect, right? At least I **tried** to keep your life from getting too boring,” Hogan replied with a smirk.

“Believe me, you succeeded admirably at it,” Klink informed his friend.

Hogan’s parents had been watching the causal banter back and forth between both generals with a smile. While they didn’t necessarily understand everything being referenced, they didn’t really need to. It was obvious that the two friends were more than comfortable with each other, as if they’d been friends forever instead of only three years.

John asked, “So how does a prisoner of war manage to keep life interesting enough that you’d have to fill out more paperwork than usual?”

Throwing up his hands, Klink said, “I have no idea how Rob came up with his crazy schemes. Come to think of it, I still do not know the answer to that for an absolute certainty. But believe me, he always managed to find a way to do it.”

“And why would Berlin need so many copies of one report? Did they lose their paperwork a lot or something?” Emma chimed in.

“Because the German people are all rule-crazy, paperwork-obsessed nutjobs,” supplied Hogan helpfully. After he felt Klink give him an elbow to the side, he added, “Present company included, of course.”

“You mean ‘excluded’?” the older general inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“I know what I said. Don’t worry about that,” the American one remarked cheerfully.

“You are a real pain in the butt at times, Rob,” Klink growled, only half kidding.

“And the same goes double for you, Wilhelm,” Hogan replied agreeably.

“Well, I have to say that I approve. I think you two are a fine fit as friends. You’re welcome to visit us any time Robbie does if you want to, Wilhelm,” John said.

“I approve as well. I know we’ve just met, but I like you. Come on by and visit us anytime,” his wife said brightly.

“That is very generous of you, but there will also be times when I afraid Rob will be visiting on his own,” Klink said, spontaneously grinning as he felt his former senior POW officer grab his arm again.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so. Don’t leave me alone with my parents, Wilhelm. That’s just cold,” Hogan remarked as he shook his head. “Wherever I go, you go.”

“Robbie!” his parents said together in exasperation.

Klink looked at his friend and said dryly, “How very thoughtful of you, Rob. Why would you want me there with you? I thought I was ‘always so mean to you’? Now suddenly I am your main support in your time of need?”

Hogan stuck out his tongue at the older man. “You **are** mean to me! You call me horrible, terrible names!”

“Like what, Robbie?” asked his mom with a furrowed brow. She hadn’t heard the German general call her son any names so far! What was Robert talking about now?

“Oh, they’re pretty bad, Mom,” Hogan began to explain as he let go of Klink’s arm to talk with his hands.

Meanwhile, the former _Kommandant_ just rolled his eyes. He already knew what was coming, or at least he thought he did. And each time his brat said these things, it just reconfirmed that he was indeed a drama queen.

“I’m telling you, I’ve never been called such things in my life!” said Hogan indignantly, being extra theatrical in that moment on purpose. “Wilhelm calls me things like ‘insufferable’, ‘impossible’, and ‘exasperating’. But the worst ones of all are ‘ham’ and ‘drama queen’. I’m telling you, that’s some nerve!”

“Rob, you **are** a ham. You are a Grade-A, certified, one hundred percent ham. You are even being one right now,” Klink explained patiently.

“You see? Isn’t that terrible, Mom and Dad?” exclaimed Hogan with a grin.

After looking at each other and digesting their son’s version of ‘terrible names’, both of the elder Hogans rolled their eyes.

“Robbie, I’m not sure how to say this, sweetheart –” began Mrs. Hogan with a smile.

“– but those aren’t terrible names. Those are extremely fitting, very accurate descriptions,” Mr. Hogan finished with a smirk.

Hogan gasped, managing to somehow look thoroughly offended. “ **Well!** That’s not very nice,” he said before he cracked up laughing.

“Oh, do not worry too much, Rob,” Klink piped up with a wicked grin. “Since I always call you such horrible things, you will be doing any and all visits to your family solo.”

“No, no. That’s okay, I still want you there with me,” Hogan said hastily.

“Why would you want me there if I am so terrible?” inquired Klink, his previous expression still upon his face.

“Because better the devil you know than the devil you don’t,” explained Hogan with a shake of his head. “Duh.”

Emma looked at the overgrown child disguised as her son and sighed. “Wilhelm, you must have the patience of a saint. I don’t know how you do it.”

“With a lot of schnapps,” Klink said with a straight face, already anticipating the reaction to his planned response.

“Oh, you drink a lot to help keep yourself sane?” guessed John, wondering if it was warranted in this case or not.

“No, I just keep it on hand. Then whenever Rob comes to see me, he drinks about a fourth of the bottle when he thinks that I am not looking. It knocks him out like a light, and I get some peace and quiet for a change,” Klink clarified with a smirk.

After about thirty seconds, both of the elder Hogans burst out laughing. “Okay, I have to give you credit where credit is due. That’s a pretty good solution,” Mr. Hogan remarked once he had calmed down again.

“I concur, and I like it as well. That’s very clever,” added Mrs. Hogan with an amused shake of her head.

“ _Danke_ …I mean, thank you. I thought it was,” Klink acknowledged as he shot his friend a smug look.

“You guys all suck,” replied the younger general as he folded his arms and pouted. He didn’t enjoy being made fun of, and he sure didn’t appreciate his parents joining in on the fun.

“Do not pout like that, Rob. It is unbecoming for a young man such as yourself,” Klink teased. However, his words only resulted in the pout becoming a scowl instead.

_**An unwanted conversation… ** _

“Moving on,” stated Emma as she became serious again. “I would like to clarify some things with you regarding your methods of disciplining Robbie, Wilhelm.”

“Oh no. No, no. Mom, please don’t ask those types of questions. Come on, that’s so humiliating,” Hogan pleaded as he began to blush.

“Rob, just remember what I told you earlier. Grab onto me for emotional support if you need to, alright?” Klink said.

Then he looked at Mrs. Hogan and nodded. “Of course, Emma. But I did tell Rob earlier that I would field as many questions about this as I could on his behalf. So unless it is something only he can answer, I would appreciate if you only asked the questions of me. The…er…subject matter embarrasses him,” Klink explained awkwardly.

Emma considered that for a minute as she gazed at her son, who was blushing beet red. “I can appreciate you wanting to spare my son’s dignity, Wilhelm. So I can agree to that, but there may or may not be a few questions I’ll need Robbie to answer himself. I think that’s fair,” she said.

“That is fair enough. Please proceed,” Klink said politely as Hogan groaned softly beside him.

“So first of all, however did you come up with this concept?” Hogan’s mom inquired. “It does seem a bit…unorthodox.”

“Well, first of all you should know I have two bratty nephews that I often babysat before the war started,” Klink began. “A good spanking was the perfect way to make them behave and listen to me whenever they acted like naughty children, which brings me to how I got this idea at all. At Stalag 13, Rob was in charge of all the other prisoners of war. On the _Luftwaffe_ side, I had approximately eighty guards.”

The tall German shrugged as he continued on. “Every last one of them followed their commanding officer’s example, which is how it should be. The problem is, said commanding officer acts like a little boy in a grown man’s body. He ran around my camp doing whatever he wished, acting like a naughty child most of the time. And that meant I had almost a thousand prisoners running around acting like naughty children as well, which was not a good thing as they outnumbered the guards over ten to one. So I had to do something, or else I could have very well lost control of the camp via a transfer or death. Either one would have been a catastrophe for everyone involved. Many of the other **_Kommandanten,_** **or commanders, did not have either my tolerance or patience for such antics**.”

Then the older officer gave his brat's hand a squeeze, trying to offer a measure of silent comfort the only way he could. "I did not want anyone to get hurt, be they a prisoner or a guard. So my logic was that if I kept the leader in line and listening to me, then the rest would take care of itself. Prison camps are very much a pack mentality," he explained. "The military in general is as well, now that I think about it. If the leader does something, the rest of them will follow. Thus, I gave my idea a shot. I figured that if it worked for my nephews, it would work on Rob as well."

“And did it?” asked John, who had been listening to the tale with interest. He had to admit, the logic was sound.

“Somewhat,” replied Klink. “There were still some incidents, but the number dropped to about one-third of what they had been previously. Frankly, I would have implemented the idea the day Rob was brought into my camp had I known it would work that well. Regrettably, we had a minor hiccup in the arrangement during the last few months of the war.”

Emma had a puzzled expression as she inquired, “What sort of minor hiccup?”

Klink almost looked embarrassed as he explained it. “Er…well, I had told Rob on the previous two nights that we had this type of ‘discussion’ in my personal quarters –”

“Wait, hang on a minute,” asked Hogan’s dad. “Sorry to interrupt, but did you just say ‘at night in your personal quarters’? And you called them ‘discussions’? Why?”

“Yes, we did. That way I could speak with Rob about it anywhere inside the camp if need be, and no one would be the wiser,” explained Klink. “And due to the necessity of multiple roll calls in a day, it was best to do such things at night. Besides that, I was often needed at random times during the day by my men. Rob had the same situation with the men under his command, and we did not want to be disturbed. Besides that, I had no wish to humiliate him either.”

“Oh, okay. I can understand that,” said Mr. Hogan.

"Anyway, you were saying before about the minor hiccup?” prompted Mrs. Hogan.

“Ah, yes, Anyway, I had told Rob twice before that since he obviously felt the need to have a sore bottom all the time by causing trouble for me, I would give him one nightly if I felt he needed it. And make no mistake, I have never just hauled off and spanked your son without at least one prior warning about such an occurrence happening. Usually I would always give him two warnings or more, though. I am a fair man, but even I have my limits,” Klink said.

“But I had already given him two warnings about this previously. So by the third time such a thing occurred, I was sick of repeating myself to him. I had only planned to use my hand for the initial punishment, because I knew that another would be forthcoming before the night was through,” he explained.

“Yet Rob was playing with my riding crop, which annoyed me since I was already in a bad mood. When I instructed him to put it down or have his bare bottom spanked with it, he both sassed and mocked me. So, I gave him what he obviously wanted. I spanked his insolent behind with it until he cried, and then he received another spanking by hand as previously planned on.” The older man shrugged, doing his best to look nonchalant about the whole thing.

Internally though, he was nervous as all get out. He was worried that Mr. and Mrs. Hogan would think him cruel or sadistic. He’d always gone out of his way to be the complete opposite, but he also knew how the whole thing must look to an outsider.

Clearing his throat, Klink added, “You should know that from the beginning of this whole thing – starting in early 1944 – I warned Rob from the get-go of what would happen if he chose to continue and disobey me. I laid everything out quite clearly, as well as my reasons why I had decided to go this route. One of them was that I despise the cooler, which is a cold, isolated jail cell with no heat of any kind near the back of Stalag 13. Needless to say, it is very easy to become ill if one is in there for an extended period of time.”

For some reason, the former _Kommandant_ felt defensive about his actions as he spoke. “I have stated repeatedly that I would never do anything to cause him permanent damage, and Rob can confirm that if you ask him. And I made him a promise that I would never lie to him or joke about this in any sort of way. It has been my downfall a few times, that promise has. But I am a man of my word. I have actually run out of implements to use on your son, because anything I use must have a prerequisite of not being able to cause said permanent damage.”

He debated whether or not he should say what he was thinking, before deciding that it wouldn’t hurt. “And…and my father was an abusive man, so I am well aware of what can and cannot be used without leaving a scar of some kind. There is nothing that I have used to spank Rob that I have not had used on me as well at least once during my lifetime,” Klink admitted. “Thus, I know exactly how far I can go with whatever implement I am using before I must stop. I am always very careful in what I am doing, so make no mistake about that.”

Emma nodded, patiently listening to the explanation she was being given. She supposed as a mother, she should feel outraged on her child’s behalf. Yet all she felt was a grim satisfaction that her disobedient son had finally been taken well in hand. It was actually something she should’ve done long ago, but she’d never had the heart to do it. Neither had John, so they’d used extra chores as a deterrent instead. And it was obvious that the tall German went to great lengths to warn Robert about the consequences of his actions, as well as to not be abusive or barbaric in any way.

“That sounds perfectly understandable,” she said at last. “And I have no problem with any of that, Wilhelm. But –”

“I do,” Hogan muttered, blushing a dark red by now. He saw his mom glaring at him and added hastily, “Sorry, Mom. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Robbie,” she replied dryly before she turned back to his friend. “As I was saying before, I have one question for you, Wilhelm.”

“What would that be?” inquired the older officer, wondering if they were going to call the police on him at some point for all of this.

“Why did you spank Robbie until he cried? Surely he had learned his lesson before that point?” Mrs. Hogan asked.

But Klink was already shaking his head in reply. “Emma, you must understand what I am telling you. Rob is stubborn as two or three donkeys combined, and his punishments were not merely just for him to learn a lesson. Your son has been spanked on his bare bottom many times over my lap. On each occasion, I could always tell he was in great pain. Now, you would think that in such a state, he would surrender to the emotional release being offered to him. But did he ever let his emotions go and accept it? No. He would always fight it and fight it each time, merely because he could.”

He let out a sigh as he recalled some of the worse punishments he’d doled out in his mind. “I have always had – and continue to have – to coax the breakdown out of him each time. I told him the very first time we had such a ‘discussion’ that I would always spank him until he cried, because it is a form of stress relief. Crying has long since been a way to release built up tension and other negative emotions. It is not a pleasant journey to reach that point, but it seems to have been very useful to your son. Rob has actually **begged** me on two different occasions to punish him, because he enjoys that stress relief so much,” the former _Kommandant_ answered.

Both of the elder Hogans’ heads turned to look at their son, but he was nowhere to be found. “Robbie? Where are you, son?” Mr. Hogan called out.

“Under the table, hiding from the world,” Hogan said in a muffled voice. He was embarrassed beyond all reason, both because his mother had even asked such questions and because Klink had answered them.

“Robbie, please get back in your chair,” his mother requested.

“No! I’m so mortified, I could die on the spot. You can hear me just fine from right here, I’m sure,” Hogan replied, his hands over his face as he spoke.

“Grow up, son. You act like you’re the first person in history to have their tail worn out as a form of discipline. Literally everyone at this table has been through it before you, so you’re not alone. You’re just the newest member of the club. So do as your mother asked and get your butt back in that chair right now!” his father ordered, sounding exasperated.

There was a moment of silence, and then a “Yes, Dad,” was heard. Slowly, the American general crawled out from underneath the table and stood up. His cheeks were a dark red from blushing, and as soon as he sat in his chair again, he covered his face with his hands.

Klink tried to put his arm around his brat’s shoulders as a form of comfort, but Hogan jerked away from him.

“Don’t touch me, Wilhelm!” he hissed angerly, his face still covered by his hands. “I’m so mad at you right now, I could spit nails! How could you do this to me? I thought you were my friend!”

“Rob, I…” the tall German was at a loss for what to say. He’d only been answering the questions he was asked! Then he looked at Hogan’s mother and mouthed the word ‘help’.

“Robbie, remove your hands from your face and look at me,” Emma said in an unusually firm tone of voice. “Now!”

His former senior POW officer removed his hands from his face and looked at his mom, his eyes holding an arsenal of daggers in them. “Yes, Mom?” he asked through clenched teeth, sounding royally pissed off.

“Robbie, you listen to me and listen good. You can be mad at me until the cows come home and go back out again. I don’t particularly care either way. But you will **not** take your anger out on your friend. He was just answering the questions I asked of him regarding your welfare. I only wanted to be sure you hadn’t been hurt in any way, baby. It’s my job as your mom,” Emma told him in a no-nonsense tone.

“Mom, you’ve managed to thoroughly humiliate me without a shadow of a doubt. I would have let you know a long time ago if I’d been hurt at all,” Hogan said, still sounding highly agitated. “And I’m not a baby, I’m almost forty!”

“Honey, you will always be my baby boy. It doesn’t matter if you’re almost forty or almost four hundred, I’ll always see that cute baby with the shock of black hair that I gave birth to,” Mrs. Hogan replied with an eye roll.

“ **Mom!** You’re embarrassing me yet again!” Hogan exclaimed. “Let me clear a few things up for you right now, okay? I haven’t been permanently hurt in any type of way. The only thing that even comes close to that category is the damage to my pride, but that’s to be expected. Also, Wilhelm would **never** do that to me. Somewhere along the line, I’ve become addicted to that emotional release – that he provides so well, by the way – better than any drug I can think of.”

His cheeks burned with shame as he explained what was on his mind. The American general hated even having to do it, but he also didn’t want to sit here while his mom played twenty questions about how and why he was spanked either!

“He’s never abused me or been sadistic in any sort of fashion. He’s also always given me more than enough warnings before he punishes me. However, I’m usually too stubborn to pay much attention – if I choose to listen at all – to said warnings. And I trust him utterly with anything and everything that I have, up to and including my life. Now, can we **please** drop this subject forever? Please?” he pleaded.

Klink was flattered to hear how Hogan felt about him, because that was an incredible endorsement. But he also knew he should probably step in at some point. So he asked his troublemaker, “Look, I have some embarrassing stories of my own that I could tell you later on. Would that make you feel any better, Rob?”

His former senior POW officer shook his head angerly. “No, because you’d just censor them. I don’t think you get it. You’re talking about me to my parents like I’m not here! And about demeaning stuff to boot,” he snapped. “How would you feel if I talked to your mom about those types of things with you sitting **right there?** ”

Klink let out a weary sigh. “For the love of all that is holy, Robert! My mother has an entire treasure trove of embarrassing stories about me. If it will help you feel less slighted, I will ask her to tell you a few of them when we see her. Alright? And I will even sit right next to her, so I will be in the same position you are at the moment. I believe we may have some of my baby pictures too that you may look at, if you wish. In fact, we can go see her next instead of going to Palm Springs if you are okay with the idea. Now please, do not be angry with me,” he pleaded.

Hogan’s dad nodded in agreement with Klink, impressed by the older man’s reaction to all of this. “I’d say that’s a damn good friend you got there, son. I don’t know a man alive who volunteers to ask his mother to share embarrassing stories about himself with someone else. Not to mention sharing his baby pictures with you, being as those are always pretty bad. No matter who you are, everyone’s got at least one they wish that they could erase from existence.”

Mollified by now, Hogan stared at his friend in surprise. “You’d really do all of that for me?” he asked slowly. “And you’d skip going to Palm Springs too? But you’ve always wanted to see it!”

“If it makes you feel better about everything? Yes. I would do it in a heartbeat. I will not be happy about it, but I will do it for you. And **only** for you, Rob,” confirmed Klink. “As for Palm Springs, there will be other trips to the United States. It will still be there at a later date, I am sure.”

Mr. and Mrs. Hogan looked at each other and smiled. Their son had found a true friend, and in the strangest place imaginable. Emma cleared her throat and said, “Fine, Robbie. You’ve answered everything I wanted to know anyway.”

Hogan sagged with relief as he said, “Thank God. This much blushing can’t be good for my body.”

_**An awkward conversation, part one… ** _

Mrs. Hogan turned to look at Klink and asked, “Wilhelm, could I speak with you privately for a moment?”

“Of course, Emma,” replied Klink as he stood and followed her to where he and his troublemaker had been earlier. After they were standing there, he asked, “What is on your mind?”

Hogan’s mom gave Klink a quick glace up and down, seeming to decide something in her head. “I have just one question for you, Wilhelm.”

“What is it?” inquired Klink, wondering what this conversation was going to be about.

Emma took a deep breath, appearing to consider her words. “Has Robbie acted protective towards you in any way? Not just a normal sort of protective, like a friend would be. I’m talking about ultra, look-at-him-the-wrong-way-and-you-die type protective. Has he acted like that around you at all?”

The former _Kommandant_ blinked, wondering what type of question that was. “Yes, now that you mention it,” he said slowly. “In Germany, there were two different people he went off on. One was a British sergeant whom he threatened to – and I quote, ‘bust his ass down to private’ – if he did not show me some respect. I apologize for my language, but that was a direct quote,” Klink said.

“The other time was when we visited with the highest ranking member of the _Luftwaffe._ The officer in question merely observed that Rob and I were friends, that he cared about me. The statements were in no way a threat, but that is how your son took them.” Klink shook his head at the memory.

“Emma, I thought Rob was going to come unglued. He was literally shaking from anger, radiating dangerous vibes, and using many colorful metaphors while he made various threats towards the individual. I honestly thought that I might have to restrain him at some point. As it was, I had to order your son to stand down to keep things from escalating,” the older man said.

The German general looked at Hogan’s mom with a baffled expression. “I must admit, that is a rather strange question. Why did you ask it of me?” he asked curiously.

But Emma just groaned and facepalmed. “Oh boy. Robbie’s got it bad.”

Confused by that reaction, Klink said, “I beg your pardon? Would you please elaborate what you mean by that?”

Looking him straight in the eye, Mrs. Hogan pulled no punches. “Look, I just thought you should know, since you two are friends and all. Robbie’s bisexual. And I can see that he really, **really** likes you. It’s beyond mere lust too. He’s in love with you, Wilhelm. And I think you two would make a cute couple.”

“I…what?” Klink asked, feeling stupid and pondering why Hogan’s mom felt that he needed to know that. Being as he wasn’t in love with his friend and was straight, those circumstances didn’t apply to him.

“I am not a homosexual, though. So there is a slight problem with that idea right off the bat,” he pointed out.

Emma shook her head and smiled. “You can lie to yourself if you’d like, Wilhelm. But I’ve seen the way you both act toward each other. It speaks for itself.”

“Emma, homosexuality is against the law in this country. Germany is even stricter about such laws. Not to mention you cannot be in either the _Luftwaffe_ or the United States Army Air Force if you prefer the same gender. And both Rob and I are career officers, so we need to keep our jobs,” Klink tried to point out.

Hogan’s mom just shrugged as she talked. “I didn’t say it was an ideal situation. I said he was in love with you. And you should know that my son is very territorial, both when he’s in a relationship with someone or when he wants to be. If anybody so much as **looks** like they might be threatening you while he’s this head-over-heels in love, they could very well get hurt.”

“I…Emma…we…” Klink stammered, wondering where this conversation had veered off the path.

“I believe you have made a mistake,” he finally said. “I am not –”

“– dating my son yet? I know,” she said. “If you’re worried about John and I, we’re very open-minded people. We just want our child to be happy. And if he chooses you to be his boyfriend or whatever the modern term is for it, that’s fine with us. I’ve seen how you look at Robbie in return, you know.”

The German officer shook his head, his mind still in denial. “We are just good friends.” he said firmly. “And I do not look at Rob in any special type of way!”

“I wouldn’t advise doing anything except seeing your family and getting a place together so the two of you can work out how you feel about each other. Because until that point in time, it’s a really bad idea for either you or Robbie to go anywhere alone,” Mrs. Hogan added, acting as if she hadn’t heard him.

“I know my child. He’ll worry himself sick if you so much as go to the store without him at this point. Well, at least until he’s able to reassure himself you won’t up and leave him one day without saying goodbye. Eventually he’ll handle it a lot better, though he still won’t be happy if you go off somewhere alone.”

The older man didn’t even get a chance to interrupt before she spoke again. “Like I already said, Robbie is very territorial. And he always puts the welfare of those he cares about before his own. Whenever my son loves somebody, he puts one hundred and ten percent into it, giving that relationship everything he has to offer,” she added.

“Yes, I have seen that in the way he leads his command, not to mention heard stories about it from both his men and Rob himself. It seems that there have been instances where a situation had the potential to be deadly, so he ordered them to flee. Naturally, they disregarded the order in favor of keeping their commanding officer alive,” Klink stated.

Now that he combined Mrs. Hogan’s words with everything he’d been told on the subject, his brat’s recklessness suddenly made a lot more sense! Then the former _Kommandant_ looked at her like she’d grown a second head.

“I concur that the idea of becoming roommates is a good one,” he admitted. “But the only feelings I have for your son are platonic.” Even now, he continued to lie to himself despite the new information he’d just been given.

“Suit yourself,” Emma said with a shrug. “But would you do me two favors?”

“It would depend on what they were,” the older general said carefully, leery of simply saying yes after this strange conversation.

“Number one: keep an eye on Robbie as long as you’re both traveling together. He’s cocky and headstrong, and he needs someone with a reasonable, level head on his shoulders to keep him from doing something stupid. In short, my son needs a keeper,” Hogan’s mom remarked.

Klink nodded his head. “As long as we are traveling together, I can do that,” he agreed. “What is the second favor?”

With a smirk, Emma said, “Make sure you bust his butt whenever you feel that he needs it. You seem like a reasonable sort of person, Wilhelm. So I trust that you’ll be fair about it. Make sure to do it if it’s something you think we wouldn’t approve of either. You know, on my behalf and John’s,” she added with a smirk.

Returning the smirk, Klink replied, “Oh, I can definitely do that. Would you like me to go easy on Rob at any point if a spanking is given to him on your behalf?”

With a very unladylike snort, Emma responded, “Heck no! Make sure you do it just as hard as you would any other time. Robbie has years of back-talk and disrespect to catch up on,” she added.

“I see. That can be arranged,” said Klink with a wicked grin.

“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say to you, Wilhelm. I still need to speak with Robbie for a minute, so could you send him over here when you go back to the table?” Emma asked him.

“Er…yes. Thank you for the advice, Emma,” said Klink as he walked back to the table.

After he told Hogan his mother wanted to talk to him alone, he sat down in his chair. His head was spinning from what he’d just been told. Hogan was in love with him? That was nonsense! _But she claims she has seen Rob act like this before when he was in love,_ his mind reasoned. _And all of his core team said the exact same thing. Ugh! I will deal with this later. A lot, lot later._

_**An awkward conversation, part two… ** _

“You wanted to see me for a minute, Mom?” inquired Hogan as he walked over to his mom.

“Yes honey, I did,” said his mom with a grin. “While it’s been wonderful to see you again and to meet Wilhelm, I have something I need to say before your father and I leave to go home.”

“Um, okay. What is it?” asked the American officer wondering where this was going. What came out of his mom’s mouth was the last thing he expected to hear, though!

“Robbie, I think you should tell Wilhelm how you feel. And if he likes you too, you should snag him for yourself before somebody else does. He’s a sweet man, and I’m getting the vibe that he likes you the same way you like him. That much is obvious from how you two interact. You both act like an old married couple,” Emma explained.

Feeling his jaw drop open, Hogan sputtered, “But…but…Mom, I’m not…”

“Don’t even try to hand me that line of crap, son. I know for a fact that you’re bisexual, because I’ve seen you kissing your friend Russell many times. The last time I checked, straight men don’t kiss other men. And they certainly don’t kiss them more than once!” Mrs. Hogan said. Her eyes were dancing with mischief, the same way her son’s did whenever he was plotting something.

“But I…you…when?” Hogan asked weakly. This was certainly news to him. And they’d been so careful too. _Apparently not careful enough,_ his inner voice commented.

“A mother never gives away her secrets, Robbie. But even if I hadn’t seen that before, I know the signs when my child is in love. I’m a mom, so it’s my job to know,” Emma said firmly. “Besides, you know your dad and I are very open-minded people. I know your father will accept him into the family without any objections. So just –”

“Wait, wait, wait!” the former senior POW officer exclaimed desperately, holding up his hands. “You’re moving a little too fast, don’t you think? First you’re informing me that I supposedly love Wilhelm, and now you’re trying to marry me off? Even if I **was** bi – and I’m not saying I am, I’m just saying if I **was** – it’s illegal! Both of us plan to be in our respective militaries until we retire, and being a **poof is an automatic dishonorable discharge. Not to mention jail time,” he added.

Mrs. Hogan raised her eyebrows. “I thought you were supposedly straight. Now you’ve gone from being straight to being a poof? I think you skipped a step there, son,” she said dryly.

“Huh? No, I’m not a poof! I’m straight!” Hogan said, wondering where she’d gotten that idea.

“But you said being a poof is a crime. Someone who’s bi likes both genders equally, so that means you’re not a poof,” she said reasonably.

The younger officer groaned and facepalmed. “Mom, both the military and the law treat poofs and bisexual people equally. And like I said, it’s illegal. Both here in the United States and in Germany, it’s illegal. So we’re screwed either way,” he pointed out.

“No, you’re not. But you could be, if you play your cards right,” his mom teased him.

Her words made her son turn beet red. “ **Mom!** You’re not supposed to talk about that stuff!” Hogan exclaimed. “Geez!”

“Robbie, I know more about sex then you probably do. I’ve been around a lot longer then you, and how do you think you got here anyway? A mail order service?” Emma demanded. “I can assure you that you didn’t come from the cabbage patch either, nor did the stork deliver you. Besides, I’ll have you know that your father and I still –”

“ **MOM!** Please, can we change the subject? I don’t need to know about that. Any of it,” the younger general begged as his blush got even darker.

“Okay, honey. We can do that. Let’s talk about you and Wilhelm instead,” she suggested with an evil grin. “I think the two of you would make a cute couple. And you’ve been too busy looking in every other direction to notice how that man is looking at you. He’s eying you like you’re the only tall drink of water in the middle of the desert. But if it’s any consolation, he’s just as confused as you are. You might have to make the first move, Robbie.”

“I…you…he…” Hogan couldn’t make his tongue work properly for a minute or two, so he had to take a few deep breaths before he could speak again. “You talked to **Wilhelm** about this crazy idea as well? Mom, are you trying to literally kill me from humiliation today? Because you’re doing a great job so far,” he complained.

“Nope,” Emma said in the same annoying cheerful way that her son had inherited. “Just giving you two lovebirds a much-needed nudge is all. I asked him one thing, and that was if you’d done your caveman protective bit around him yet. You know, the whole ‘Me Robert. You Wilhelm. Us cave, right now.’ Do you know what he said?”

“No, and I’m kinda afraid to find out,” the former senior POW officer admitted as he covered his eyes with his hands.

Emma smirked, thoroughly enjoying giving her only child a hard time since he’d been shot down in Germany three years ago. “He says you’ve done it twice already, and that the second time you were radiating dangerous vibes. Oh, and you were using plenty of ‘colorful metaphors’ – as he put it – when you threatened to beat some high ranking officer up for a perceived threat to Wilhelm.”

She raised her eyebrows again and asked, “Are you going to tell me about that, Robbie?”

“No,” Hogan muttered crossly. He could feel his mother’s sharp gaze on him, so he sighed and lowered his hands. “I mean…no, ma’am,” he amended.

“Better,” his mom said with a nod. “Don’t think you can just keep copping an attitude whenever it suits you, young man. I’ve already asked Wilhelm to keep an eye on you, and to bust your butt whenever he feels that it’s needed. Which he said he’d be happy to do, and he also said that he’d do it on both my behalf and your father’s. And no, he won’t go easy on you during those times either. All per my request, of course,” Hogan’s mom added with a smirk.

“Wonderful. Just peachy,” Hogan griped. “Mom, he can land a **really** hard swat. You just don’t understand how he thinks. He’s going to keep me standing up forever! What have you done?” he asked dejectedly. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Oh, stop being so over-dramatic. I **do** love you. That's why I asked your friend to keep an eye on you. He's going make sure you stay out of trouble, since I can't do it because you'll be living so far away. And to punish you if you get into some anyway, of course.”

Her son was giving her a horrified look as she continued on. “I know that you’ll be perfectly fine, Robbie. A sore behind here and there never hurt anyone. And Wilhelm also seems very fair. I’m sure as long as you behave like an adult, you won’t have any problems at all,” Emma remarked brightly.

“Says you,” muttered Hogan as he let out a weary sigh. “Mom, I really don’t need a keeper. I’m almost forty, and –”

“– and you’re an overconfident, cocky young man with a major attitude problem. So yes, you **do** need a keeper, honey,” his mom interrupted him. “I suggested you two become roommates, since from what I understand you’re giving your thirty day notice on your apartment. And Wilhelm’s still trying to figure out where he’s going to live after all is said and done. It makes perfect sense,” Mrs. Hogan said triumphantly.

“Now, your father and I have to leave. I won’t say anything to him yet, but I expect to receive either a phone call or a letter from you within a week of you two lovebirds getting together. And then I’ll tell him the news. Okay?” Hogan’s mom asked.

“I…but…yes, Mom,” Hogan said in a resigned tone. “Man, anybody ever tell you that you’re really stubborn?” he asked wryly.

With a wink, Emma asked, “Where do you think you got it from, son? Besides…I raised you, Robert Hogan, so I had to be a very determined individual. And you’re pretty adequate yourself in that department, honey.”

“I guess that’s true,” was all Hogan said in reply as they walked back to the table.

_**Saying goodbye… ** _

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Wilhelm,” Mr. Hogan said as he shook the German’s hand.

“Likewise, John,” replied Klink as they shook hands.

Then John turned to his son and clapped him on the back. “Good luck, Robbie. Wherever you go, just be careful. Okay?”

“Yes, Dad,” said Hogan as he gave his dad a half hug. “Drive safely. I’ll give you a call before we leave the country.”

“Wilhelm, it was an absolute pleasure to meet you,” said Emma as she wrapped him in a hug and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That was for the earrings,” she added.

“I am very glad to have met you as well, Emma. And I can see where Rob gets his stubbornness from,” he added with a wink at Hogan.

Mrs. Hogan turned to her son, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well. “I love you, baby. You be careful, alright? And listen to Wilhelm! Unlike you, he doesn’t seem to go off half-cocked at every opportunity,” she added.

“Yes, Mom,” Hogan replied dutifully. “You guys be careful on the way back! There’s still some damage to the roads,” he added.

John just shook his head. “We’ll be fine, Robbie. Goodbye for now,” he added as he walked toward the door.

Emma stared at the two officers for a minute before a grin crossed her face. “Remember what I said, you two. Have fun…and goodbye for now,” she added with a wink as she followed her husband toward the door.

Hogan waved and called out, “Goodbye, Mom! Goodbye, Dad!”

Klink also waved as he called out, “Goodbye, John! Goodbye, Emma!”

After his parents had left, the two generals looked at each other and blushed.

“So…what did she mean by that, Rob? What did you mother tell you?” asked Klink.

Hogan shook his head. “Just some ridiculous nonsense. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Klink smiled and added, “Is it that same moronic theory that Captain Carter had? Because if so, I do not want to discuss it either.”

“Yep,” Hogan affirmed. “It’s stupid. We’re just good friends.”

“Absolutely. Just good friends,” Klink repeated.

After looking at each other in silence for a moment, Hogan said slowly, “So what now? Should we head for Germany?”

“Yes! I mean, yes,” Klink said. “It is time to face my mother now.”

“And payback is gonna be so sweet,” Hogan teased with a grin as they headed toward the door.

“I was afraid of that,” Klink said with a sigh. “Just go easy on me, Rob.”

“Of course,” said Hogan with a knowing smirk as he held the door open for his friend. “I’ll show you the same level of mercy you showed me tonight.”

“To partially quote you, Rob: Magical. Simply magical,” grumbled Klink as he exited the building.

“You’ve got no idea yet, Wilhelm,” agreed Hogan as he left the building as well. He was looking forward to this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: **Poof is another name for a homosexual, which can be derogatory depending on how it’s used.**


	16. Meeting The Family, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Almost**_ all is said and done, but it’s not quite over. There’s still another group of people to meet, and General Hogan has a decision to make. Will he return home to the United States, or will he stay and help rebuild Germany?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show. And once the generals enter the house, everyone is assumed to be speaking in German unless otherwise directly stated or implied._**  
>   
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Onkel_ = Uncle  
>  _Amerikanischer Soldat_ = American soldier  
>  _Vater_ = Father  
>  _Amerikaners_ = Americans  
>  _Herr_ _=_ Mister  
>  _Englisch_ = English  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Reichsmarks =_ The currency of Nazi Germany. (It was discontinued in 1948.)  
>  _Ein_ = One  
>  _Kinder_ = Children  
>  _Ja_ = Yes  
>  _Mutter_ = Mother  
>  _Auf Englisch, sie dummkopf! Nicht deutsch! Ohne deine Hilfe hätte ich so **viel** tun können, Wilhelm. _= In English, you idiot! Not German! I could have done that much **without** your help, Wilhelm.  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Oma_ = Grandmother  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Leutnant_ = Lieutenant  
>  _Bienenstich_ = Bee sting cake  
>  _Schinken-Kohl-Auflauf_ = Ham and cabbage casserole  
>  _Schnell_ = Quickly/hurry up  
>  _Jawohl_ = Yes sir  
>  _Reichsmarshall_ = Marshall of the Reich, Hermann Göring’s title  
>  _Stalag_ = Stalag is short for ‘ _Stammlager_ ’, which is short for ‘ _Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager_ ’. It translates to ‘prisoner-of-war camp’  
>  _Oflag_ = Short for ‘Offizierslager’, which translates to ‘Officer's camp’  
> 

**_ Back in Germany, visiting Klink’s family… _ **

As they got out of the car and closed the doors, Hogan looked up at the Victorian-style house in front of him. “ **This** is where you grew up?” he asked incredulously as he adjusted the right pant leg of his US Army Air Force general’s uniform. “It looks like someplace Dracula would live!”

Klink smiled and shook his head in amusement with his brat. “Robert, sometimes I think you and your American sense of humor are very silly,” he responded as he smoothed out the pants of his _Luftwaffe_ general’s uniform.

The house in question was a two story home, just like the other ones that were fairly close by. Yet that was where the similarities ended. Klink’s family home was painted a dark gray color, with what looked like almost a completely flat roof directly on the top part of the house. There was also a black metal balcony fence topped with sharp spikes there as well, and the front of the roof was slanted at an angle so that rainwater could run off of it. On both sides, it sloped downward and curved in sharply. In addition, it had what looked like an upside down sword with a curved hand guard near the chimney.

The second floor had an actual terrace that one could walk out on, along with arched windows. The fence around it was made of metal and painted black, something that was practical since wood tended to rot from exposure to the sun. Then there were three steps leading up to the porch, which was enclosed and had a faded lawn chair sitting off to the side. The porch had a balcony fence around it as well, which matched the one above it.

Directly above the overhang where the front door was, a small tower point jutted upward. Unlike the second story ones, the windows on the ground floor were long, semi-thin rectangles. Finally, the oak wood door was painted black. All in all, the place had a very gothic feel to it.

The former senior POW officer looked at his friend and raised his eyebrows. “How am I silly? It’s got a creepy vibe to it! But I’ll bet you were popular on Halloween,” he added with a laugh.

“Really Rob, you say the strangest things sometimes,” the older general stated as they walked toward the door. After climbing the steps, he dug out his house key and added, “We can get the groceries after I let my mother know we are here. I only hope we do not scare her, since we did not call ahead of time to announce our visit.”

Hogan climbed the steps and replied, “I’m sure it’ll be okay. She’ll be far too happy to see you after all this time to worry about getting mad.”

“True,” Klink allowed as he opened the door and stepped inside, his friend following right behind him. As they closed the door, two young boys came running around the corner before the tall German could say a word. They appeared to be eight and nine years old, and the younger man guessed those were the bratty nephews he’d heard so much about.

That assumption was proven correct as both of the boys stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the two officers. The younger one cried out, “Look out, _Onkel_ Wilhelm! There is an _Amerikanischer Soldat_ behind you!” The older one was a bit more proactive though, because he picked up a nearby paperweight and chucked it at Hogan’s head.

Reacting quickly, Hogan snatched it out of the air so it wouldn’t hit him in the temple. Meanwhile, Klink started to speak to the one who had thrown the paperweight.

“Fritz, you foolish boy! What were you thinking? You could have hit me in the head with that!” he scolded. “If you ever do something that idiotic again, you will not be sitting down for a day or two, I promise you. And my abilities in that regard have not waned since I saw you last either,” Klink added with a scowl.

“And I’m pretty sure he means it too,” Hogan remarked, a sympathetic expression appearing on his face. He gazed at Fritz and added, “I wouldn’t test your _onkel_ right now. He’s tired from his flight and all the time zone changes, so he’s not in the best mood.”

After looking at the American general standing beside the German one in surprise, Fritz looked back at the older officer and responded in German as well. “But _Onkel_ Wilhelm, I saw that damn **gangster –”

Before his nephew could say anything else, Klink gave him two sharp swats to the seat of his shorts to silence him. “First of all, you will not insult General Hogan in that way, Fritz! If you do so again, you will remain standing for a few days quicker than you planned on. Second of all, you shall watch your mouth when you are around me. Who taught you that word, anyhow?”

“Ow!” Fritz said sullenly as he rubbed his behind. He gazed up at the older officer, who didn’t look happy with him at all. While he loved his uncle very much, he didn’t love the greeting he’d gotten after not seeing him for so long. And he wasn’t a rat, so he didn’t want to answer the question either.

“It was _Vater,_ ” the younger of the two boys piped up, making sure he stepped back out of his uncle’s grabbing range after seeing what had happened to his older brother. “That is what he calls the Americans, including the bad word,” he added helpfully.

“Traitor!” Fritz hissed at him, who ignored the insult in favor of making sure that it wasn’t **him** in trouble next.

Nodding to his youngest nephew, Klink replied, “Thank you very much, Hans. Your helpfulness is appreciated.”

“You are welcome, _Onkel_ Wilhelm,” Hans responded politely as his gaze settled on Hogan. “Who is the man standing beside you, if I may ask?”

Taking a deep breath, the former _Kommandant_ replied, “Hans, Fritz…this is my friend, General Robert Hogan. He is a member of the United States Army Air Force, and I –”

But his friend cut himself off as an older woman came out of the kitchen, obviously drawn to all the noise and shouting. She looked to be in her seventies, with dark grey hair that had once been a dark brown. The grey was the same color as Klink's, and her eyes were the same shade of blue.

Her eyes lit up with happiness upon seeing her son, until she noticed Hogan standing silently behind him. Then her expression became one of fear as she spoke in a mixture of German and broken English, wrongfully assuming that he didn't speak her language.

“Please, _Herr_ General,” she began, her body tense. “I speak very little _Englisch_. We poor now. _Nein_ _Reichsmarks_. Little food. SS and _Amerikaners_ take it. He is _ein_ of my _kinder_.. _._ my son,” she added, pointing at a puzzled looking Klink. “Please, _nein_ hurt him.”

Hogan just looked at Klink's mother with a baffled look on his face. _What the hell has the SS and the American troops been doing to the German citizens while we’ve been at Stalag 13?!_ he thought furiously. _Barbarians, every one of them!_

“Um...what?” he finally asked in English, confusion evident in his voice. He understood the message just fine, so that wasn’t the problem. He just wanted to know was why she was telling him any of this. After all, he wasn't here to raid the place!

With a frustrated expression from the perceived language barrier, _Frau_ Klink slowly walked toward the pair. It was obvious by her careful movements that she was expecting the former senior POW officer to attack her in some way. Either that, or to physically stop her from approaching them. But when the younger general made no moves to stop her, she touched her son’s arm and spoke.

“Willie, I need you to do me a favor. Tell the American general we have no money at all anymore, and there is very little food left in the house. The SS took most of it, and the Americans took almost all the rest. Tell him you are one of my children – my youngest son – and make sure he knows that I was asking him not to hurt you,” she said to Klink in German.

With a nod to his mother, the tall German answered, _“_ Yes, _Mutter._ Give me a moment.” With that, he spoke in English as he added, “Rob, I think there is a grave miscommunication going on here. My mother thinks you are here to cause trouble for her, and she does not know you are a friend.”

Then he shrugged and obediently repeated what she had told him to say, still looking confused. As his nephews didn’t speak any English, he was speaking German on purpose all the while so that his nephews could follow the conversation.

To Hogan's surprise and amusement, _Frau_ Klink smacked the tall German upside his head for his trouble. _“_ _Auf Englisch, sie dummkopf! Nicht deutsch! Ohne deine Hilfe hätte ich so **viel** tun können, Wilhelm.”_

The younger officer had never been more grateful than he was now that was bilingual, and he reasoned that he should only speak German while he was here. At least that way the language barrier wouldn't be a problem. With that decision made, his next words came out smoothly in the foreign language.

“I'm going to assume by that declaration that you're _Frau_ Klink. I'm Robert Hogan, and I'm not here to raid your house,” he informed her.

Ingrid Klink looked surprised at hearing her native tongue from an American for a moment, until a determined look crossed her face. She was clearly terrified of him – her trembling form gave that much away – but she forged on anyway. Hogan could see where his self-appointed disciplinarian had gotten his stubborn streak, and his looks as well.

“Yes, that is who I am…and I see,” she finally replied as she smoothed down her apron. The two boys were standing off to the side during all of this, watching the adults silently. Still, their body language was tense, and they were clearly upset. 

“Well, I am only a poor war widow, _Herr_ General. As long as you do not hurt my son or my grandchildren, I will cooperate with you. I only ask that we go to a different room, since the children should not have to witness such adult acts. My son that stands next to you, Wilhelm, can watch them briefly,” she told him nervously.

“Huh?” asked the former senior POW officer stupidly, feeling like he was missing something in that odd message.

But the missing puzzle piece clicked into place quickly, which made his expression change into one of horror. “No! God, **no!** ” he exclaimed. Just the idea of doing anything so vile made his stomach churn violently.

“You're got it all wrong, ma’am. I'm not here to steal from you, hurt you, or...or do **that,** ” he added, his tone of voice conveying how sickened he was by the mere concept.

Turning to the older general, he spoke in English while he talked. “I think we should've called ahead after all. Me and my bright idea of a surprise was obviously a dud.”

“Do you think?” Klink said sarcastically with an eye roll, looking a little green himself at what his mother had implied. “You and I almost got knocked unconscious by Fritz throwing a paperweight at us upon our arrival, and now my _mutter_ has the wrong idea entirely. Should I clarify things in your stead?”

Nodding, Hogan replied, “Yeah, I think you'd better. I'm doing a terrible job so far. And obviously some of the American troops are doing horrible things to the German people in revenge for the war,” he added disgustedly. “Along with the SS, but that’s just because they’re complete jerks.”

“Believe me, I am well aware of that,” his friend responded wryly. Then he turned back to his mother and spoke to her in German again.

“ _Mutter,_ Robert is a good friend of mine. We have known each other for three years now, and he is a decent, honorable man. He is not here to cause any problems for you or anyone else. He is the one who sent the courier here with our things, and the one whom you spoke to on the telephone. He is also the one who found out you were still alive and let **me** know about it, because I had no idea if you had survived the war. And he is the one who helped me finally get promoted to the rank of general,” Klink explained as he tried to smooth over the situation.

His mother glanced over at the American general, who had a relaxed pose and kept his hands by his sides. He was also doing his damnedest to appear nonthreatening, which seemed to be working. And when he noticed her looking at him, he gave her a carefree smile. Then she looked back at her son, who was indeed wearing the uniform of a _Luftwaffe_ general and smiling.

“ **This** man did all of that, you say? This one right here?” _Frau_ Klink asked as she pointed at his friend.

_“_ Yes, _Mutter,”_ the tall German responded warily, getting a uncomfortable feeling in his stomach about the abrupt change in his mother’s tone of voice.

“Oh,” she replied, appearing to think that over for a moment or two. Looking over at the younger general, she said, “Would you please us for a little while, _Herr_ General? I need to speak with my son alone in the kitchen.”

Nodding his head, Hogan responded, “Of course. Take all the time you need, ma’am.”

“ _Danke._ We will be back shortly,” Ingrid said with a nod. Then she grabbed Klink by the ear and dragged him toward the kitchen to talk, lecturing him as they went. While the German officer vocally protested the treatment, he was led away irregardless.

**_ A little pow-wow… _ **

With a snort of laughter at what he’d just seen, Hogan proceeded to look at Klink’s nephews. The two boys had bewildered looks on their faces, as if they didn’t know what to make of the situation. Deciding that maybe it might help things if he wasn’t towering over them and looking all imposing, the younger man sat down on the floor against the wall.

After maneuvering his body into a cross-legged position, he stared at the two boys for a moment. The older one had platinum blond hair and blue eyes, a textbook example of an ‘Aryan’ child, and he was tall and lanky like his uncle. Meanwhile the younger one had light brown hair with hazel eyes. He was also a little bit shorter and stockier than his brother.

Looking at the blond-haired one, the former senior POW officer cocked his head and asked, “You’re Fritz, right? That’s what your _onkel_ said, or at least what I thought he said. We kind of got off to a hectic start,” he observed, beginning the conversation.

“Why do you care? We are Germans, citizens of the same country the Americans destroyed with their bombs!” Fritz responded angerly. “Germany is reduced to nothing, and all because enemy soldiers like **you** have ruined it!”

Holding up his hands in a ‘calm down’ gesture, Hogan said, “Whoa, relax. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t Hans, young man _._ Nothing like calling somebody by the wrong name to irk them.” Before he could say anything else, his brother spoke up.

“I am Hans. That is my brother, Fritz,” the brown-haired boy said hesitantly. “We would like to know why _Onkel_ Wilhelm calls you a friend, _Herr_ General. We heard everything he said to our _oma,_ but we are confused. Well, I am confused,” he amended. “I cannot speak for my brother.”

“Thank you, Hans,” the American general replied politely. “So, you’ve got to be Wolfgang’s sons, then. I’ve heard quite a bit about you both from Wilhelm, you know.”

Then he patted the floor and added, “Are you guys gonna stand there all day? The floor’s plenty big enough for you guys to sit down, you know. You don’t have to sit near me, but I just thought you might want to be comfortable while we talk. Either way, I’d still like to speak with you both.”

Fritz exchanged a confused glance with his younger brother, who shrugged in reply. Gazing at the American general again, he asked suspiciously, “How do you know about our _vater?_ He has never been in the military, so you would not have met him on the battlefield. And you seem awfully familiar with our _onkel_ as well. Why? What has _Onkel_ Wilhelm told you about us?” he inquired.

The older boy was distrustful of this American soldier, who seemed to be utterly relaxed around them for some reason. If there was one thing he’d always heard, it was that the Americans were evil people who would hurt any German at the first opportunity. He’d been taught that repeatedly in school, so Fritz wasn’t about to let his guard down that easily.

With a sigh, Hogan began to explain what was going on. “First of all, I’m not a soldier in the traditional sense. I’m a bomber pilot, just like Wilhelm _._ I’m in a different military, obviously, but it’s still the same job. Not that I’ve bombed a da…darn thing in the last three years, because I’ve been locked up in a prisoner of war camp.” He was trying to censor his language while he talked, since these were young boys and he didn’t want them to pick up his bad habits.

“Stalag 13, to be precise…which your _Onkel_ Wilhelm was the _Kommandant_ of until the war ended. Like he said earlier, I’m a good friend of his. Good friends tend to be familiar with one another, you know,” he remarked.

Then he glanced at the younger of the two brothers, who was looking at him like he’d sprouted a new limb. “To answer your other questions, I know he’s your _oma_ ’s other son. My understanding is that he’s about seven centimeters (three inches) taller than your _onkel_ and outweighs him by twenty-three kilograms (fifty pounds), in addition to being a solidly built type of guy versus more lanky.”

Enjoying the stunned looks on their faces, the younger officer continued on. “And Wilhelm’s mentioned you both a lot as well. From what I can gather, you boys are quite the adventurous pair. A little **too** adventurous in this case, because my understanding is that he’s had to…um… **address** how you guys act on a few occasions. Address it in the same way he did with you earlier, Fritz,” he added.

He was trying to be tactful about it as he turned his gaze to the blond-haired boy, remembering how badly it’d humiliated him when Klink had discussed such things with his parents while he sat there. “Let me simply say you both have my deepest sympathies in that respect.”

_“Danke,”_ Fritz told him with an unreadable look upon his face.

“You’re welcome.” Then Hogan shrugged out of his uniform jacket, looking at Hans again while he did so. The brown-haired boy was staring at it in fascination, clearly having never seen an American general’s uniform up close before. The open, innocent curiosity made him smile.

“You wanna try it on?” he asked. “If you do, I can toss it to you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to approach me to get it if the idea makes you feel uncomfortable.”

An astonished expression crossed the little boy’s face as he responded slowly, “Well…yes, I would. I have only seen American uniforms very briefly, and then only in pictures. But is there not some regulation against that, _Herr_ General?” he inquired curiously.

Making a face, the former senior POW officer said, “Please, don’t call me that. That title reminds me waaaay too much of General Burkhalter, your _onkel’s_ boss. But you can call me _Herr_ Hogan, or _Herr_ Robert. Whichever one works for you,” he stated with a shrug.

Out of nowhere, he gave them his familiar, lopsided grin. “In answer to your question, Hans, there might be one,” he remarked thoughtfully. “But I’ve made a long and successful career out of flouting the rules. Therefore, I don’t see why I should change anything about that now,” he said cheerfully.

As he held out the uniform jacket, he added, “Go ahead and take it. Or did you want me to toss it to you?”

Shaking his head, Hans replied, “I will come and get it from you, _Herr_ Robert. Just please, do not hurt me,” he requested as he began walking over to the American.

Hogan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’d like to live past the next few minutes. Wilhelm would kill me if I even thought about doing something like that, not that I ever would. He’s the protective, caring type, you know.”

“Sometimes I wish our _onkel_ would be a little **less** protective and caring,” muttered Fritz. He’d been watching the way that this man interacted with his little brother, and how he wasn’t talking down to them or treating them shabbily. If anything, he seemed to be treating them like equals, which was surprising.

Every story he’d ever been told spoke of how the Americans used and abused the German people. They also spoke of how they treated the Germans like dirt, or as a mere tool to be used. So this conversation was pleasantly surprising to him, if he was being honest with himself.

“Don’t I know it,” responded the younger general with a sigh. “He’s constantly on my back about my choice of language, like I’m not allowed to swear once in a while. I mean, geez. I’m an adult and all, but I guess he doesn’t like it. And I get tired of being nagged about that, so I try not to do it in his presence,” he said with a shrug.

“Anyway, let me guess…the main thing Wilhelm gets mad about is you two doing anything that might put your life in danger. Am I right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, but how did you know that?” the older of Klink’s nephews asked in astonishment.

“Let’s just call it ‘personal experience’,” Hogan said dryly as Hans reached his side.

The brown-haired boy reached out to take the jacket cautiously, hoping that the former senior POW officer wasn’t going to do anything nasty to him. But the only thing the younger general did was drop his uniform jacket into the boy’s hands.

Hogan watched him with a smile as Hans returned to where he’d been standing before, proceeding to try on the jacket once he was far enough away. Stretching, he asked both of Klink’s nephews curiously, “So, do you guys speak English at all? Or is that not taught in the schools over here?”

“No, _Herr_ Robert,” Hans responded, looking rather delighted as he wore the too-big-on-him uniform jacket. “We were going to learn it next year in school, but…you know. The war,” he added with a shrug.

“Yet you speak our language very well, _Herr_ Robert,” Fritz chimed in. “But you said you were a prisoner of war in _Onkel_ Wilhelm’s camp, correct? How did you get out of there, when –”

“– *there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13!” All three of them said it together, which caused Hogan to chuckle. “I take it you’ve heard that boast before, then?”

“Every single time we saw our _onkel,_ ” Fritz confirmed with a half-smile. “He has not seen either us or our _oma_ since last year, though.”

“Maybe he’s just been busy,” suggested the younger officer, trying not to think about just what Klink had been busy doing! “To answer your question, Fritz, the Allies liberated all the prisoner of war camps. Everyone that there was freed, thus they went home.”

“But you are still here, _Herr_ Robert. What I do not understand is why you are friends with _Onkel_ Wilhelm at all. It seems a bit strange to us,” Hans piped up as he cocked his head. He was still wearing the American’s uniform jacket, appearing to be enjoying doing so. “And he left us alone with you as well. That is even stranger.”

“True, and _Oma_ left the room as well,” Fritz added with a frown. “It seems rather unusual.”

“Because he enjoys my company, despite the fact that I frustrate him at times,” Hogan replied,

He then gave them both a serious look, needing them to understand something. “But the fact that they even did that is how you know I’m a decent person. Would either your _oma_ or your _onkel_ – not to mention both of them at the same time – have left you alone with me if I was a threat to you?” he asked the boys.

After thinking that over, the oldest of the boys said sheepishly, “I suppose not. _Oma_ would not have done so, anyway.”

“Don’t let _Onkel_ Wilhelm hear you imply such things, Fritz. He will tan your hide,” Hans warned his brother.

“Hans, shut **up!** ” the blond-haired said hotly as he blushed. He looked over at the former senior POW officer, who was making it a point to look away as he put his fingers in his ears.

“I see nothing, and I hear nothing,” Hogan remarked casually, channeling his favorite former Sergeant of the Guard. “Just let me know when it’s safe to see and hear stuff again.”

That offhand response managed to break the tension in the room, causing Fritz to giggle as he took a seat on the floor. He’d chosen to sit on the right-hand side of the former senior POW officer while they talked, tapping him lightly on the arm to get his attention.

“If I may say so, _Herr_ Robert, you are very odd. But it is safe to see and hear things again,” he informed Hogan as he moved into a cross-legged position.

With a grin, the younger officer sighed in relief. “Oh, good. I was enjoying the entertainment, so I’d hate to miss any more of it.”

“Entertainment? What entertainment?” Hans questioned as he sat cross-legged on the floor on Hogan’s left-hand side.

“Yeah, entertainment. And it’s coming from the kitchen. Just listen for a minute,” the American general said as he put a finger to his lips.

All three of the males were quiet as they listened to some of the things being said. The phrases _“dummkopf”, “better manners than that”, “embarrassed me”_ and _“I ought to…”_ were clearly heard coming from that area, along with the repeated sounds of Klink stammering and protesting as they all grinned at each other.

“So…I’m gonna guess that she’s only **slightly** upset with your _Onkel_ Wilhelm then,” Hogan quipped, holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart as he winked at Klink’s nephews.

“Yes…and I do believe that ‘slightly’ may be a grave understatement, _Herr_ Robert,” Hans replied with a snicker.

“I would like to go on record as saying that I am glad it is not me in there,” Fritz chimed in as he snickered too.

“Amen to that. Your _oma_ sounds like a force to be reckoned with,” agreed the younger officer.

Turning serious again, he asked, “But I’ve got a question for you, Hans. You said earlier that you’d only seen American uniforms in pictures, but your _oma_ said that both the SS and American troops had been through here previously. I’m gonna guess you two were at school when the Americans did that crap then?”

“Yes _._ Fritz and I were always at school,” Hans said cautiously. “Yet you just called them ‘Americans’ though, which is odd since you are one as well. Would they not be called ‘your fellow countrymen’ instead, _Herr_ Robert?”

“Heck no,” Hogan said disgustedly. “I would **never** do something like that to anyone. And anyone who does that crap to someone else isn’t my fellow **anything, **no matter who they are. Personally, I prefer to look past the uniform and heritage to the human being within it. I’ve even got two of the _Luftwaffe_ guards from Stalag 13 that I still keep in contact with to this day.”

“You do?” the two boys asked together in amazement.

“Who are they?” inquired Fritz, his curiosity peaked by that statement.

With a wink, the former senior POW officer responded, “You might’ve heard about one of them. In fact, you share a name with him, Hans. The men in question are Corporal Karl Langenscheidt and Sergeant Hans Schultz. Well, I guess it’s Second Lieutenant Schultz now. He got a promotion.”

_“Leutnant_ Schultz, you say?” Hans questioned thoughtfully. “I have heard _Onkel_ Wilhelm talk about him a few times. But our _onkel_ always said he was a _dummkopf_.” 

Yet Hogan snorted and shook his head. “Um, no. Far from it, actually. Your _onkel_ and him just don’t see eye-to-eye, because Lieutenant Schultz and he don’t always get along. Then again, that could just be because Wilhelm can be a real grouch at times,” he said with a chuckle.

Taking in the baffled looks he was getting, the younger general explained what he was talking about. “Schultzie is the nicest guy you could ever hope to meet, and he looks like a big teddy bear. Everyone at the camp loved him, **including** the prisoners. Besides that, he adores kids of any kind. Which turned out to be a good thing, since he’s got five of his own. And he also owns the Schatze Toy Company,” he added.

There was silence in the room for about fifteen seconds, until both of the boys asked their questions at once.

“Schultzie? The prisoners gave a _Luftwaffe_ guard a **nickname?** ” Fritz asked in shock.

“The Schatze Toy Company? That is the largest toy factory in all of Germany. Are you sure that is accurate, _Herr_ Robert?” Hans breathed in wonder.

“Quite sure, Hans. He’s mentioned it before, and Wilhelm had to explain why that was such a big deal. But in response to your question, Fritz…we sure did. Like I said, he’s a decent guy. Just don’t leave him alone with your strudel and you’ll be fine,” Hogan told them with an eyeroll.

“I get the feeling that Stalag 13 was not an ordinary prisoner of war camp,” Fritz said as he considered those words. “That is highly irregular, in any case.”

“Well, we always aimed to please,” the American said agreeably. As he leaned closer to both of them, he looked both ways before whispering consciously, “My goal is to see how fast I can make the rest of your _onkel’s_ hair fall out. Then the Iron Eagle can be a bald eagle instead,” he said with a laugh as he sat back up again.

Hans let out a snort of laughter while he pictured how mad his uncle would be about that. After all, both he and his older brother knew how vain Wilhelm Klink could be! “I like him, Fritz. I think our _onkel_ is lucky to have such a friend in his life.”

“I agree, brother. _Herr_ Robert will…er…help _Onkel_ Wilhelm relax a little bit,” Fritz said carefully.

Hogan just shook his head at that statement, wondering if being delicate with one’s words was a needed survival skill around here. “Fritz, that’s the most diplomatic way I’ve ever heard ‘pull the stick out of your butt, learn to lighten up and have fun’ phrased. So I have to give you credit for being able to do that, because I can’t. But then, you’ve probably already noticed that about me too.”

Both of Klink’s nephews laughed at the blunt terms being used as he asked, “So, about your _oma._ Does she cook at all? And if so, what kind of food does she make the best?”

“Ooh, yes _._ Our _oma_ makes everything you can think of, and then some,” Hans replied happily.

“Brother, what do you think _Oma_ makes best?” Fritz asked his little brother.

After thinking about that for a moment or two, the youngest of the boys said, “It really just depends on what you like, I suppose. But I would say casserole dishes and desserts. What do you think, Fritz?”

“Same here,” the older one agreed. “Why, _Herr_ Robert?”

Hogan looked at the boys with a smile and remarked, “I was just hoping the groceries that your _Onkel_ Wilhelm and I brought with us would be enough for your _oma_ to cook something, that’s all. If not, we can always go and get some more. But the two of us are limited in what we know how to make, and neither one of us has had a homemade meal in ages. You think she’d be okay with that?”

The brothers turned to each other, seeming to ask an unspoken question before answering. “I think that would be alright with _Oma._ We would have to ask her, of course. But there has been very little food here for a while, so I do not think she would mind. Especially if she is allowed to have some of the food,” Hans informed him cautiously.

“Yeah, of course! I’d never ask her to make something and not share it, and I sure wouldn’t eat in front of you guys. That’s just rude,” the former senior POW officer huffed. “Anyway, is there anything she makes that you both really like? Like a favorite food?”

“My favorite dessert is _Bienenstich_ , _Herr_ Robert,” Hans told him after thinking about it for a second or two.

“And my favorite food is _Schinken-Kohl-Auflauf_ ,” chimed in Fritz. “Not that it matters much, because we always have to eat what the adults like. We only get our favorite foods on our birthdays.”

“Bee sting cake, along with ham and cabbage casserole? Sounds good to me,” Hogan said. “How old are you two, anyway?”

“I am eight, and Fritz is nine,” Hans said proudly. “We just had our birthdays last month. I was born at the beginning of May, while Fritz was born at the end of it.”

Hogan nodded in reply, glad that he’d guessed their ages right. It also meant that they hadn’t been old enough to be a part of the madman’s ‘youth organization’, since the minimum age to join it was ten years old.

“Oh, so you’re big kids then, not babies. But anyway, do you guys want me to ask your _oma_ if she’ll make those two things for us? That is, **if** she agrees to cook?” he asked them.

“Yes _._ That would be very nice of you, _Herr_ Robert,” Fritz replied. “Are there no German foods that you like, then?” He was a little confused by that statement. Since when did any adult consider what a kid wanted?

“Yes, _danke_ …and what my brother said,” Hans affirmed.

“Eh, I haven’t had many dishes from this country,” the younger general admitted. “Only German eggs, cheese noodles, and potato dumplings. Thus, I’ll bow to the native experts.”

Then Hogan grinned as something that he thought would be funny came to mind. “By the way, Hans…do me a favor, would you?”

The little boy studied their uncle’s friend for a moment and said, “That would depend on what the favor is, _Herr_ Robert.”

“The next time your _onkel_ asks you a question today, close your eyes and shake your head slowly. And while you’re doing it, say ‘I know nuuuu-thing!’ just like that before you open your eyes,” the American officer told the younger of the two brothers.

“I’ll make sure you don’t get into any trouble for it, so don’t worry about that. And if we’re lucky, we’ll get Wilhelm to shake his fist and say _‘Mmmmpf!’_. If you’ve never seen him do it, you should, because it’s absolutely **hilarious**. You willing to see if it’ll work?” he asked, hoping that Hans would say yes.

The youngest of Klink’s nephews nodded and let out a chuckle. “Of course. Neither I nor Fritz have ever seen _Onkel_ Wilhelm do that, so it should be good for a laugh or two.”

“Awesome. I –” The younger man cut himself off, holding up a hand to halt any further questions as the sounds from the kitchen faded into silence. He listened to be certain that he was correct before addressing the pair again.

“I think that your _oma_ is finally done chewing Wilhelm out. That being said, do you guys want to mess with him for a few minutes?” he inquired, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

After a quick glance at each other, the brothers nodded. They liked this strange American that their uncle called his friend. And they got the feeling that Hogan would make sure they didn’t get into trouble for whatever he had planned. Besides, any chance to mess with an adult and not be yelled at for it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So, there was no way that they weren’t going to take it!

“Most definitely, _Herr_ Robert. Just tell us what you have in mind,” the blond-haired boy decided for them with a devious smirk.

With an equally devious smirk of his own, Hogan replied, “We’re gonna do an improv skit, which will be fun. In this skit, we’re gonna act like we’re holding a meeting about how to escape from a POW camp. The more outrageous stuff you can think of, the better,” he quickly explained.

“When your _oma_ and _onkel_ come back in the room, just act like you don’t notice them unless either of them say something directly to us, okay?”

“We understand,” both brothers said in unison, wondering how all of this was going to play out.

Hogan grinned excitedly and told them, “Great. Now, just follow my lead…”

**_ Connecting the pieces… _ **

As Ingrid Klink walked back into the room, she stopped dead at what she saw. Hogan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with his back to the wall. But that wasn’t the strangest part. Her two grandsons were also sitting in the same style on the floor, one on each side of him. Her youngest grandson was wearing the American officer’s uniform jacket, and they had their heads together quietly discussing something. Really, it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

She knew that the two boys were the suspicious type by nature. She also knew that Fritz in particular was extremely wary of strangers, as well as someone who hated the Americans in general. So how had this one gotten her oldest grandson to talk to him at all, let alone sit next to him and talk like they were old friends?! Turning back to the kitchen, she hissed, “Willie, get out here! _Schnell,_ but be sure to remain quiet when you do so. You will not believe this!”

“Why, _Mutter?_ What is –” Klink cut himself off at what he was witnessing as he entered the room. After taking in the scene before him, he wasn’t sure whether to laugh out loud or groan instead. He’d always known his brat to be a little boy trapped inside of a grown man’s body, but the intense pow-wow he seemed to be having with Fritz and Hans only confirmed that.

Turning back to his mother, he asked, “What in the world are they discussing? This does not bode well at all.”

_Frau_ Klink only shrugged as she answered him. “How should I know, son? I only saw them for perhaps ten seconds before I instructed you to come out here. But why does this not bode well? Are you saying that you do not trust your nephews to stay out of trouble now?”

“No, I trust **them** just fine. It is Robert Hogan I do not trust to do that, _Mutter._ He is a prankster and mischievous, as well as incredibly flippant at times. Come to think of it, he acts more like a little boy than an adult,” the tall German explained patiently.

Raising her eyebrows, Ingrid said dryly, “So essentially, you are telling me that he acts just like your nephews do most of the time. Well, that would explain much, I suppose.”

Shrugging, the older man agreed, “I believe that observation is correct. I am going to get a little closer and see what they are discussing.”

“Alright, Willie. Let me know,” his mother told him with a sigh, hoping that whatever her son discovered about this little meeting wasn’t going to be a problem.

Using the graceful movements that he’d been taught, Klink tiptoed over to the group. Well, as quietly as one could when wearing a pair of heavy _Luftwaffe_ jackboots. He simply **had** to know what was so interesting that none of them had noticed either his or his mother’s return to the room. As he got closer and heard what was being said, he barely stifled a groan at how his troublemaker had chosen to entertain his nephews.

“Alright, so that’s a pretty good idea for a tunnel, Hans. But it’s got two small flaws,” Hogan said, well aware of the fact that his friend was watching them and listening to the conversation.

“Which is what, _Herr_ Robert?” Hans inquired, not seeing the problem with his idea.

“Well, nobody’s going to want to move a toilet to the side to access the tunnel, for starters. And what about the pipes and stuff?” Hogan asked reasonably. “They’ll be in the way for whoever’s doing the digging, and the guards will investigate to see what’s wrong when the toilet stops working.”

“I suppose I did not consider about that,” Hans concurred with a frown.

“That’s okay, just keep thinking about it. The last thing we need is for the _Kommandant_ to catch us making a tunnel of any kind, or we’ll be stuck in the cooler until the end of the war. He’s a real stickler for the rules, you know,” the former senior POW officer instructed.

“What is the cooler? I am afraid that I am new here,” Fritz piped up, trying to give the American a subtle hint that he was confused.

Hogan gave him a slightly sad look as he explained, having gotten the hint. “Oh, that’s right, I’m sorry, I forgot that you’re new to the operation. And it must be your first war, but that’s okay too.”

With a long-suffering sigh, he supplied the answer. “The cooler is a cold, solitary jail cell with no heat at all. That’s why it’s called a ‘cooler’. Don’t ask me why we need a jail cell inside of a POW camp, especially when said camp is **already** a giant jail cell. But the _Kommandant’s_ a very thorough type of guy, I guess.”

“That is true. I would call that very thorough,” Fritz remarked slowly.

“I would be more inclined to call it paranoid,” Hans offered with a casual shrug. “I mean, why would you need a jail cell inside of a jail cell? That is like putting a box inside of a box,” he pointed out.

Hogan rolled his eyes and said, “I guess we’ll just chalk it up to that famous German efficiency. Anyways, have either of you come up with a plan on how we’re supposed to spy on what’s going on in his office? Remember, we’ve already got an audio feed. But a video one would be helpful too, so we can see exactly what’s going on in there.”

He snickered when he spoke his next words. “Forewarned is always forearmed, so we need that feed as quickly as humanly possible. And besides, we’ve already got the video camera as well that the guys pieced together. So now we just need a place to put it. Got any ideas, Fritz?”

“Yes, actually,” Fritz said with a chuckle at how ridiculous they were being with this whole thing. “I have the perfect one…or at least, I hope that I do. Are there any pictures in the _Kommandant’s_ office at all?”

“Yeah, why? This I gotta hear,” said the American general as he leaned forward slightly. Then he gave the blond-haired boy a slight nod to let him know that his uncle was standing behind him, but to keep talking anyway.

“Alright, so this is my proposal. If one of us can smuggle a picture out of there and into the barracks, we can cut a small hole in part of it. Then we place the camera between the frame and the picture. It will be a bit bulky, but it will do as long as nobody looks at the picture too closely. Then you simply have to hang it back up, and boom! Instant video feed,” Fritz explained as he gave a slight nod back.

“Fritz, you’re a genius!” Hogan exclaimed with a smile. “I love it. The next time you go in there to clean the place, take a good look around before you leave. Then you can let me know what pictures are where, and which one you think would work the best for your plan. We can figure out the wiring and stuff to hook it up later on.”

“ _Jawohl, Herr_ Robert,” the oldest of Klink’s nephews confirmed with a laugh.

He turned to Hans, who was grinning at the sheer silliness of everything. “You look like you’ve got an idea, Hans. Whatcha got for me?”

“Well, this may sound rather silly, but how about a tree stump for a tunnel entrance?” Klink’s younger nephew asked hesitantly. “I have seen a few of them around the fence that the guards do not seem to bother.”

“A tree stump? Hmm, yeah. Yeah, that could work. But how do we get outside the wires to hollow out a tree stump?” Hogan asked him, causally rolling his head on his shoulders. As he did so, he flicked his eyes toward Klink to give Hans the same nonverbal message he’d given his older brother.

“More importantly, how does a tunnel outside the wires help us? We need one accessible **inside** the wires to use, not outside of them. You’re gonna have to explain that concept to me,” the younger officer stated.

Shrugging and nodding slightly in return, Hans replied, “It will be the exit we come out of to escape from the camp. As to how we will hollow it out, that is easy. We just have to wait to be assigned to a work detail. The next time we are told to gather firewood or some such thing, one of us slips away to begin the work on it. We will rotate every hour, and the guards will never notice only one of us missing. Simple, yes?”

“Hans, I absolutely love it! You’re brilliant,” Hogan praised him. “Get some of the guys together as soon as you can. I trust your judgment, so anyone you think is suited for that type of work will suffice. Tell them to report to me ASAP, please.”

_“Jawohl, Herr_ Robert,” Hans said with a chuckle. He had to admit that he was enjoying this strange game, especially knowing that his uncle could hear every word that they said.

Shaking his head in amusement, Klink had to hide his smile before he did anything else. Instead, he did his best to sound stern as he cleared his throat and addressed them all.

“I do hope I am not interrupting your meeting of the Escape Committee, gentlemen,” he began dryly. “But as I am sure that you are all aware, there –”

“– *has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13!” his nephews and his troublemaker said at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah. We already know that much, _Kommandant,_ because you’ve only said it about a million times. Even so, we’ve got to try and escape **occasionally,** ” Hogan pointed out in a cheeky tone of voice.

“After all, It keeps you on your toes! Not gonna lie though, I wish that I’d had your nephews with me during the war. They’re very creative,” he remarked, winking at both of them in turn.

Looking taken aback by the unexpected simultaneous answer, the German general motioned for his mother to come over as he grumbled, “Very funny, Rob.”

“Who was being funny? I was being serious,” his friend insisted with a laugh.

Yet the older officer chose to ignore that comment as he inquired, “So what exactly were you and my dear nephews plotting in your little meeting?”

“Us? Nothing. Not a thing,” his troublemaker assured him, using an innocent tone that meant he was actually the exact opposite of innocent.

“I wouldn’t begin to know what you’re talking about, and neither would Fritz. But I’m sure Hans can give you the answer you’re looking for. Try asking him,” he suggested.

Narrowing his eyes and letting out a long sigh, Klink followed the obvious verbal cue as he looked at his youngest nephew. “Fine, I shall. Hans, what do **you** know about this impromptu meeting?”

The question was utterly perfect. As he’d been previously requested to do, Hans closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. As he did so, he said, “I know nuuuu-thing!” and then opened his eyes again.

Not surprisingly, their bait worked. Out of pure reflex, the former _Kommandant_ swung his arm as he always did and let out a loud _“Mmmmpf!”_ Naturally, that caused all three of the other males to start cracking up laughing.

“Yes! Way to go, Hans,” the former senior POW officer cheered as he giggled like a little kid and gave the brown-haired boy a high-five. “That was perfect! I told you it was something you had to see for yourself.”

“ _Danke, Herr_ Robert,” the younger of the two brothers responded, looking very pleased with himself. “You were correct in that assessment. I only wish I had that on video somehow.”

But his older brother was too busy rolling on the laughing to give a high-five to, though. “That was funny!” he gasped out. “Do it again!”

Growing quickly irritated with his brat, Klink snapped, “I do not find your antics amusing right now, Rob!”

“Well, that’s okay,” Hogan told him agreeably, his dark eyes alight with good humor. “If right now doesn’t work for you, I’m free all this week. Do you have a preferred time slot?” he inquired casually.

Shaking his fist in the air, Klink shouted, **“HOO-GAAN!”**

“What? It was an innocent question!” said Hogan indignantly before he began chuckling. “Look at that, you guys! We got a two-for-one special,” he informed them.

Fritz had just managed to stop rolling on the floor from hysterics and sit up when his uncle yelled the American’s last name. Even though he was able to stay sitting up this time, he began giggling again anyway until tears came out of his eyes. “Oh my, _Herr_ Robert. You certainly have a way with words,” he stated as he calmed down enough to high-five Hogan.

“I can agree with that, brother. I have not laughed like that for quite a while,” Hans chimed in as he giggled.

Seeing her grandchildren truly laughing for the first time in over a year brought a smile to Ingrid’s face. And the fact that the American general on the floor had been the one to cause it made her take an instant liking to him.

“Willie, why are you shouting like that? Nobody here is deaf,” she pointed out.

Just now hearing the nickname for the first time – as he hadn’t noticed it being said earlier with all the drama going on – the younger man let out a snicker and muttered, “Willie. That’s rich.”

Giving his friend a dirty look once he heard the comment, Klink tried to explain what was going on to his mother. “ _Mutter,_ I was…I just…I –”

Sighing, Hogan replied, “It was my fault, _Frau_ Klink. I’m used to hearing my name shouted like that, but I always thought it was funny. I just thought maybe your grandsons might want to hear it at least once too, so I baited Wilhelm. I’m sorry if that upset you in any way, but we were just having some fun,” he explained as he got up off the floor.

Cocking her head at the unexpected apology, Klink’s mother said, “I am not upset, _Herr_ General. I was just surprised. I have not seen Fritz and Hans laugh like that in so long, and I am pleased you could bring a smile to their faces.”

“Oh. That’s a good thing then,” the American general responded with a half-smile of his own. “I’d like to request that you call me Robert or Rob, ma’am. The title of ‘ _Herr_ General’ reminds me entirely too much of your son’s boss, General Burkhalter. If you’re okay with it, that is. If you’re not, that’s fine too.”

“I…I suppose I could call you Robert. You are certain you do not mind?” she inquired hesitantly.

Hogan shook his head and told her, “Nope. I understand that certain formalities exist and all, but I’ve never been a fan of them. I’m more of a laid-back type of guy instead.”

“Ah, I see. Well, Robert it is then,” said Ingrid as she looked down at her two grandsons. “Hans, why in the world are you wearing Robert’s uniform jacket? Did you get permission for that?” she asked sternly.

“Yes, _Oma. Herr_ Robert said that I could, and he offered me the chance to wear his jacket when he saw me looking at it,” Hans informed her as he stood up.

Klink glared at his youngest nephew and said warningly, “ **What** did you just call Rob, Hans?” He felt that a child using an adult’s first name in any way bordered on disrespect, and that wasn’t going to happen. He would not stand for it while he was around, at any rate.

Seeing the expression on his uncle’s face, the little boy swallowed hard and took a step backward, making quite sure that he was out of his uncle’s grabbing range when he stopped moving. “ _Herr_ Robert said it was okay, _Onkel_ Wilhelm! Honestly, he did!”

Hogan rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, making sure that he stood in front of Hans to protect him from his pissed-off uncle. “Ease up, Wilhelm. I said it was fine. And he’s still using the word _‘Herr’_ in front of my name, so I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

“Because it is disrespectful, Rob!” Klink hissed in reply, his blue eyes on the oldest of his nephews as he got off of the floor. “And you, Fritz…are you using the same form of address?” he demanded to know.

“Yes, _Onkel_ Wilhelm. But like my brother already explained, _Herr_ Robert said it was okay with him. He made the offer to **us.** We did not **ask** to call him that!” the blond-haired boy said hastily as he backed up to stand by his brother as a precautionary tactic. And that way, he was standing behind the American as well!

Ingrid had been watching the entire exchange with interest and shook her head. She could appreciate her son’s feelings about the matter, but there were other factors to consider as well. So she touched Klink’s arm to get his attention before saying, “Willie, do not be such a sourpuss. It is most unusual to be sure, but I see no harm in how your nephews address Robert. As long as he has given his permission, then it is fine.”

“I am not being a sourpuss, _Mutter._ I am making sure that my nephews remember their manners,” the tall German explained to her impatiently.

Arching an eyebrow, his mother responded, “You mean like you did earlier, my son?”

While the two of them were talking, the former senior POW officer leaned down so both of the boys could hear him. Then he said to them quietly, “I told you he’s got a stick up his butt. You think if your _oma_ pulls the stick out and beats him with it, he might feel any better?”

Fritz let out a snort of laughter, while Hans giggled at the mental picture that those words generated. “Maybe, _Herr_ Robert. You appear to have been right about that,” he whispered.

“I’m always right about stuff, Hans. And if I’m not, I just persuade people until I convince them that I am,” Hogan whispered back in an agreeable tone of voice.

Hearing the giggling, Klink returned his attention to the other three males. “What is so funny, Hans?” he inquired.

Yet before the youngest of the brothers could get himself into any more trouble with his uncle, the American officer raised his hand in the air and waved it around. “Ooh, ooh! I know, pick me!” he exclaimed, acting like a little kid on purpose to annoy his friend.

Letting out a weary sigh and rolling his eyes, the older man addressed him, “Yes, Rob? Are you going to be doing all the talking for the class today?”

“Probably. I’m the only one who knows what’s going on,” Hogan said cheerfully.

Rubbing his temples, Klink ground out, “Then would you mind sharing with everyone else, since you know so much?”

“Sure, why not?” his brat said with a grin. “The class has taken a vote, and it’s unanimous. You, good sir, are a stick in the mud,” he announced.

“That being said, we’ve voted to exclude you from any future meetings of the Escape Committee. We would’ve invited you to this one, but you had a prior engagement,” he finished cheekily as he nodded toward Ingrid.

Despite herself, _Frau_ Klink had to smile. She’d heard that the Americans tended to be blunt, but this one took it to a whole new level. “I have to agree, Willie. Robert is quite correct about his assessment of you.”

“ _Mutter!_ A little support here, perhaps?” Klink requested with an annoyed expression on his face.

“The truth hurts, son. You are just like your _vater_ , God rest his soul.” As she looked at the younger general, she added, “My Horst passed away last year of liver failure. He was also a stern man, but he loved me very much.”

Hearing Klink’s dad mentioned made Hogan extremely glad that he had a great poker face when he focused on it. He remembered hearing before that his friend had been abused by his dad, and it took everything he had to remain calm and not start yelling.

Instead, he merely nodded once. Then he managed to sound sincere as he replied, “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

“ _Danke._ So, what is this you were saying earlier about a meeting of the Escape Committee?” she asked. “Where exactly are you escaping from?”

With another eye roll, Klink cut in to explain the joke. “Rob thinks he is being funny, _Mutter._ I have never had a single escape from my camp, and he knows it.”

Looking at her youngest child, Klink’s mother replied, “Did I ask **you,** Willie?”

“No, ma’am,” the older officer admitted with a sheepish expression when he saw the warning look in her eyes.

“Then be quiet until you are spoken to,” she told him irritably.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a scowl, shooting his grinning troublemaker a dirty look. He could see his nephews had smiles on their faces as well, and he was certain that they enjoyed seeing him taken down a peg or two. _Rob, what have you done?_ he pondered. _You have corrupted my nephews in a single day!_

_“Danke,”_ Ingrid murmured as she turned back to his friend. “ **Anyway,** you were saying?”

“We were just doing some improv, _Frau_ Klink,” Hogan explained to her as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “At one point, I was telling Fritz and Hans all about life in the *toughest POW camp of all of Germany. Naturally, they asked me why nobody had ever escaped from it. After I explained that our fierce _Kommandant_ was the Bald Eagle…I’m sorry, I mean the Iron Eagle –”

Hearing the intentional slip-up, both of Klink’s nephews began giggling again. They remembered what the American had said earlier about making their uncle’s hair fall out, and it was a funny mental picture indeed.

“– we decided to come up with various, off-the-wall ways it might’ve been possible to escape during the war. So we were pretending to be POWs, locked up in Stalag 13. It was just a way for us to have some fun,” he finished.

“Ah, I see. There is no harm in that, but it is a most unusual way to entertain children,” Klink’s mother said. “Certainly, it is not normal.”

“ _Mutter_ , **nothing** about Robert Hogan has ever been what one would call ‘normal’,” the tall German informed her helpfully.

Yet Ingrid chose to say nothing to that declaration, opting instead to give her son another warning glance instead.

When he noticed her expression, Klink slumped his shoulders unhappily and said, “Er, right. Shutting up.”

Then the oldest of the two boys tapped his friend on the hip, trying to get his attention. As soon as he felt in, the younger general leaned down to hear the whispered statement. Then he nodded and straightened up again.

“Fritz just reminded me that we have groceries in the car to bring in, _Frau_ Klink. Is it okay if I borrow your grandsons momentarily to help me bring them in?” Hogan inquired.

Looking stunned by that information, Klink’s mother said, “Groceries? Yes! Yes, of course. That is, unless your _onkel_ has a problem with that.” Then she turned to the former _Kommandant_ and asked, “Do you care, Willie?”

Klink looked at his nephews and his troublemaker in turn before shrugging. “No, _Mutter._ As long as the boys are willing, I see no reason why it should be a problem.”

“We are willing to help, _Oma,_ ” Hans piped up, looking more than happy for the opportunity to get away from his unhappy uncle for a few minutes.

“Oh yes, very willing,” Fritz added as the same idea occurred to him. He also wondered if Hogan would keep his word to them about requesting their favorite foods. So far, he’d been shown to be a man of his word, but things could always change. “Please, lead the way, _Herr_ Robert,” he requested politely.

“Alright, hang on for a second. I just have to get the car keys from your _onkel_.” Looking up at his friend, he said, “Are they still in your pocket, Wilhelm?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Klink responded. “Let me check – ah. Here you go, Rob,” he said as he dropped the keys in Hogan’s hand.

“Thanks. We’ll be back in a little while,” the American officer told him as Hans took off his uniform jacket and set it carefully on a nearby chair. Then he turned and ushered the two boys out the door, the three of them already chattering excitedly about something as they went.

**_ Having a short chat… _ **

Watching her grandsons appear so relaxed for the first time in a long while made Ingrid very happy. She looked at her son, who was trying – and failing – not to smile. “Robert is such a nice boy. I like him, Willie. And he is very good with children,” she began causally.

“I agree, _Mutter._ But then, Rob is an overgrown child himself, as I stated before,” Klink murmured, wondering what miracle had transpired in order for his nephews to willingly talk to an American. Even if **he** knew his former senior POW officer wasn’t the enemy, his family didn’t.

“I did notice that. The first thing I saw when I walked into the room was the three of them sitting on the floor, having their discussion. And Hans was even wearing your friend’s uniform jacket! You know as well as I do that my grandsons do not trust strangers, and Fritz in particular loathes the Americans. Still, Robert had them wrapped around his little finger in the short time that we were gone,” _Frau_ Klink stated, watching her youngest son carefully to see if her suspicions about the younger general were true.

“Yes, well…that is because Rob can wrap anyone around his little finger if he desires to do so,” the older man told her as his cheeks took on a pink tinge. “Including me, it would seem. Insolent, mouthy troublemaker,” he added affectionately.

Klink’s mother smiled and nodded to herself, glad that she’d been correct. “Willie, you should be certain to snap Robert up while you can, before he finds somebody else. A man like that does not come along very often, you know.”

Looking at his mother in confusion, Klink replied, “What?” It wasn’t the most intelligent thing he’d ever said, but at least it was something. Then it clicked in his head what she’d just implied, and he groaned out loud.

“Oh no. Not you too, _Mutter._ Why does everyone think that Rob and I like each other in that way? We are just friends!” he insisted as the pink tinge darkened somewhat.

“Willie, you both bicker like an old married couple. I was watching you two interact for a long time earlier,” his mother informed him. “But just who is ‘everyone’?”

Throwing up his hands in frustration, the tall German told her. “Everyone that the two of us know, save for my former guards. All five of Rob’s closest friends as well, **and** both of his parents to boot. You know, everyone!”

“His parents? Robert’s parents live in Germany?” she inquired as her brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, _Mutter._ They live in the United States, in a place called Connecticut,” Klink said. “We just came from there, actually. Rob drug me with him, insisting to his parents that he would not meet with them without me there. Even though he had not seen them in three years, he was rather firm about that. In addition to that, he made it clear that if they made me feel uncomfortable, we would both leave the restaurant. But –”

He cut himself off at the knowing expression his mother wore. “It means nothing!” he objected quickly. “Rob is merely doing –”

“What he is ‘doing’ is staking his claim on you, Willie. He is making sure that all who meet you know that you are his to protect, and that to slight you in any way would incite his wrath,” _Frau_ Klink interrupted patiently, trying to explain the obvious to her thick-headed son.

“I already know you are bisexual, as I have seen the lustful glances you give other males when you did not know that I was watching. I have also how your touch lingers just a little bit too long when you say goodbye to them as well. Besides, all of those males had dark hair and dark eyes…and Robert does too,” she added.

As a flustered expression crossed his face, Ingrid added, “I am old, not blind. And it was not hard to put two and two together, my son. I am not opposed to that sort of lifestyle, as I believe that love is love. Beyond that, I already have grandchildren from Wolfgang. So, I am satisfied with my lot in life. Just do not act in a romantic manner in front of Hans and Fritz. That is all I ask of you both.”

“I…I…but _Mutter_ , it is not like that! We really **are** just good friends,” the older officer protested weakly.

“Of course you are, Willie,” said Klink’s mother soothingly. “Tell me, has Rob done anything else unusual since you both left Stalag 13? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Yes, now that you mention it,” the German general said slowly. “He dragged me to London with him, introduced me to _Reichsmarshall_ Göring himself, and he gave me the opportunity to fly a plane again. Which I took, by the way. Why?” he asked her, not seeing the point that his mom was trying to make so far.

Holding up her hands for silence, Klink’s mother said, “Wait, wait, wait. Did you say he introduced you to _Reichsmarshall_ Göring **himself?** ” Her tone was one of absolute shock, because she couldn’t see how that was possible. “Are you **sure** it was really him?”

“Yes, _Mutter_. General Burkhalter was there as well, and he knows the man personally. Rob had asked him to be there and verify that it was not a trick of some kind,” Klink informed his mom. “Göring was the one who personally signed my promotion orders to be promoted to general, upon Rob’s request.”

Cocking her head as she digested that astonishing explanation, Ingrid inquired, “And you say he was a prisoner of war in your camp?”

“Yes, my senior prisoner of war officer,” Klink confirmed with a nod. Then he watched his friend and his nephews bring in some of the groceries, set them down on the floor, and go back outside again.

“And **how** does a prisoner of war accomplish such feats?” she demanded to know, wondering for a fleeting moment just what type of person her son had managed to mix himself up with.

With a sigh, the former _Kommandant_ responded, “ _Mutter,_ let me know when you figure out the answer to that question. There is a long list of people who would like to know the answer to it, including Göring himself.”

Of course, **he** knew exactly how. But still, he wasn’t going to say anything about the Unsung Heroes’ operation that they’d been running to anyone else.

Nodding in amazement, _Frau_ Klink replied, “I see. And he was able to give you the opportunity to fly a plane again as well? But how, Willie? Your left eye is damaged, so you cannot be a bomber pilot anymore,” she pointed out. She would process how marvelous all of this was later on. But for now, she wanted answers.

A smile played across Klink’s lips as he smiled. “Very true, _Mutter_. But as Rob truthfully pointed out, I cannot be a **bomber** pilot anymore. I can still be a civilian one, though. Bomber pilots have to fly in groups and must be able to hit precise targets, but a civilian one flies solo.”

He remembered very well the technicalities his friend had pulled out of his hat to convince him that he would be just fine, and he was truly glad now that he’d let himself be convinced of that.

His mother just shook her head and grinned as his words rang in her head. Practically every sentence he had said during this conversation either directly included his friend’s name or mentioned him in some way. _“_ _Rob can wrap anyone around his little finger…_ _He dragged me to London with him…He gave me the opportunity to fly a plane again…Rob had asked him to verify that it was not a trick…Upon Rob’s request…Rob truthfully pointed out…”_

Yes, her youngest child was assuredly head over heels in love with the American. Yet instead of being an issue for her, she found the concept truly adorable.

“Son, I can clearly see that Robert is enamored with you. He has performed the impossible many times over, and all merely to make you happy. I do not know how he did all of it, but that is not important. What **is** important is that you follow your heart. And for the love of God… should he ask you to become romantically involved at all, **you** say yes! At least give him a chance to court you if nothing else, and do not reject him simply because he is a man. Is that understood, Wilhelm?” she asked sharply.

Taken aback at his mother’s sudden fierce tone of voice, all the German officer could do was nod and say, “Yes, ma’am,” he responded agreeably. Why everyone was so dead set on seeing him and his friend together was something he didn’t know. But it was starting to get annoying, especially when he knew Rob didn’t feel that way about him!

Just then, Hans came tearing into the house. He skidded to a stop and gasped, “ _Onkel_ Wilhelm, _Oma,_ come quick! _Vater_ is beating up _Herr_ Robert!” Turning on his heel, he ran out of the house again, shouting something indistinguishable as he went.

**“WHAT?”** Klink roared in anger, already running for the door. “I will make my brother wish he was never born if he hurts Rob!” Then he bounded down the steps quickly, looking every inch like the hardened _Luftwaffe_ officer he was trained to be. While he rarely acted like that, those traits were showing through clear as day right now.

Following a little slower behind her son due to her age, Ingrid sighed and shook her head. If nothing else, that little display of protectiveness only cemented what she knew in her heart to be true.

**_ Meeting Wolfgang… _ **

Klink sprinted across the lawn towards his older brother, who had just knocked Hogan to the ground. As he was running, he saw Wolfgang kick his brat in the stomach with a steel-toed boot.

“Filthy American!” Wolfgang shouted, kicking the former senior POW officer again when he tried to get up. “How **dare** you come to my family home and try to kidnap my sons, you damn gangster?!”

Feeling like his heart was going to shatter at his friend’s cries of pain, Klink leaped on top of his brother. He wasn’t that far away, so the jump took them both to the ground. Then the German general sat on top of him and punched his older brother in the nose, hard.

“You bloody _dummkopf!_ That is my **friend,** Wolfgang!” Klink snarled viciously, punching him again but in the temple so he wouldn’t strangle his brother instead. “Leave him alone!”

“Who the fuck are you?” spat Wolfgang as he socked the tall German in his left eye. He didn’t recognize his younger brother in a _Luftwaffe_ general’s uniform, it seemed. Or without his monocle, which had fallen out by the porch steps.

By this time, Hogan had gotten up off of the ground and was looking for an opening to pull Wolfgang off of his self-appointed disciplinarian. He also stopped breathing momentarily when he heard Klink’s cry of pain and saw him fall to the side. _Oh, **hell** no! You don’t get to hurt Wilhelm, motherfucker. Not today, and not ever,_ he thought furiously.

So he ignored his aching stomach and barked, “Hey, asshole! Your fight is with **me.** Leave Wilhelm alone!” The shout drew Wolfgang’s attention toward him instead of his friend, which was precisely the goal he had in mind. _If this guy wants to fight, I can do that. No problem,_ he thought.

Then he clocked his assailant in the mouth as he growled, “He’s my friend, you dickhead! And this is **his** family home too, so fuck off!” His teeth were bared in a most unpleasant manner, and it took everything he had in him not to pummel the other man to death.

“Yeah, right,” the oldest Klink brother sneered as Hogan blocked the punch he’d just thrown at his nose. “Tell me another lie, you corrupt bastard. I…did you say Wilhelm?” he asked in a puzzled voice, shoving the American officer away from him.

“Brother? Is that really you?” Wolfgang inquired with a confused expression on his face as he got off of the ground. “Why are you dressed like that? Where is your **real** uniform, not to mention your monocle?”

“Right now, I am debating if I want to **be** your brother at all! But yes, you _dummkopf._ It is me, Wilhelm. And this **is** my real uniform,” snapped Klink angerly, accepting the hand up from his troublemaker as he glared at his older brother.

“Or it is now, I should say. I have been promoted after all these years. As to my monocle, I do not know where it is. It fell out somewhere by the steps, I think,” he added.

Hogan was tensed up, radiating the same protective, dangerous vibes as he had before. He didn’t like Wolfgang Klink so far, and they hadn’t even been properly introduced yet! So unless something drastically changed, he would continue to keep that opinion.

Turning to the younger of the older man’s nephews, he made a request. “Hans, can you find your _onkel’s_ monocle for him and put it in the house? I’d hate for it to get broken on accident.”

Hans looked slightly shaken at what he’d just witnessed, and the former senior POW couldn’t really blame him. Still, he responded, “ _Jawohl, Herr_ Robert,” before he headed for the steps.

“Who the hell are you to be asking anything of my son, gangster?” demanded Wolfgang. “And since when does **your** kind speak German?”

“I learned it back in the States, but I fine-tuned my knowledge of it over here. Germans aren’t the only cultured people around, you –”

He cut himself off mid-sentence as Klink’s mother finally made her way over to the three men. Then she glared at each of them in turn before turning her gaze on her oldest son and addressing him.

“I am ashamed of you, Wolfgang Günther Klink! Attacking Robert for no reason at all,” she scolded, waving her finger in his face. “Maybe you should have bothered to **ask** before jumping him, yes?”

The oldest Klink brother had the grace to look embarrassed. “But _Mutter,_ I did not think –”

“Precisely! You did **not** think, Wolfie, and that was the whole problem,” Ingrid lectured as she turned to her youngest son. “And **you,** Wilhelm Friederich Klink! Fighting in front of your nephews like that like a common thug. What kind of an example are you setting for **them,** hmmm?”

Klink looked surprised at being yelled at merely for defending his brat, but he protested anyway. “ _Mutter,_ I was only –”

“Save it, Willie. I do not want to hear your excuses right now. Which brings me to **you,** Robert! Robert…er…” _Frau_ Klink trailed off as she realized that she didn’t know what his middle name was.

“Edward. Robert Edward Hogan, ma’am,” he offered reluctantly, even though he hated his middle name. He’d been a part of the fight that had just happened, so he figured that he ought to be a part of the dressing down as well. It was only fair to him, even if this were one of those times that he wished his moral compass would go die in a hole somewhere.

Above all, it would prove to everyone here that he didn’t think himself better than anyone else. If it’d just been Klink’s older brother, he would have left him alone to fry. But his self-appointed disciplinarian was a part of this too, so he couldn’t do that.

Wolfgang and his younger brother shared a disbelieving glance, unable to believe the information Hogan had just freely given to their mother. Ingrid was briefly surprised by it too, but she took it in stride as she proceeded to chew him out next.

“What is wrong with **you,** Robert Edward Hogan? How could you just attack Wolfie like that? What possessed you to **do** such a thing?”

Figuring he wasn’t going to get very far, the former senior POW officer tried to explain himself anyway. Klink’s mother had the same gift that his mom had, and that was to make him feel like a heel rather quickly. _Maybe it’s just a mom thing,_ he thought.

“ _Frau_ Klink, I was just –”

“I do not care what you were ‘just’, Robert!” she said sharply, glancing at each of the three men in turn. All of them looked appropriately ashamed as they waited for her to talk.

“Now, I want all of you to listen to me. The three of you can bring in the rest of the groceries by yourselves. I am going into the house now, along with Fritz and Hans. They will be putting away the food that was already brought in under my supervision, which will enable me to check on all of you from time to time.”

She paused, making sure her next words sunk in. “Should I find any of you fighting out here again, I promise that I will take a switch to those people’s backsides. And I will do it to the other one as well,” she said firmly, glancing at both of her sons and Hogan in turn to be sure that her meaning was clear.

“No matter which two of you are doing the fighting, you will **all** be punished equally for even taking part in this nonsense. You are all adults, and you will all **behave** like adults while you are in my home. Do you understand me, boys?” Ingrid demanded.

“Yes, ma’am,” the three men said simultaneously, looking at their feet sheepishly.

“Good,” she said as she turned and headed for the house, calling for her grandsons.

There was a minute or two of awkward silence after she left while everyone digested what they had been told. None of them wanted to be the first to say something, until Hogan decided to speak up.

“Okay, so I’ve got an excellent idea. And I think you’ll both be on board with it,” he began. “In the interest of **not** having a switch taken to our behinds, I think we’d better settle any differences we have right now. Because even though I don’t know what a switch is, it still sounds painful to me. What do you guys think?”

“I completely agree with that idea, Rob,” Klink said hastily as he looked at his brother. “What about you, brother?”

“I concur, Wilhelm. I do not want a switch taken to me today. Or any other day, preferably,” Wolfgang affirmed. He gazed at his youngest brother, noticing the familiar tone of address he used with the other general. “In the spirit of avoiding another miscommunication, would you mind introducing us, Willie?”

Nodding, Klink told him, “Yes. Wolfie, this is my friend General Robert Hogan, of the United States Army Air Force. Rob, this is my older brother Wolfgang Klink. He is older than me by three years,” he explained.

The oldest Klink brother sized up the American general for a moment, noticing that Hogan was doing the same to him in return. The younger man noticed that unlike his brother, Wolfgang had a full head of hair. It was half platinum blond and half silver, and his eyes were hazel. And as his friend had told him before, his brother was taller, heavier, and of a stockier body type instead of lanky.

Finally, Wolfgang stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. “How are you, _Herr_ General? We seem to have met under some unusual circumstances,” he said warily.

The American officer stepped up to him and shook his hand. “I’ve been better, being as I’ve had a most interesting day since I got here. But I really hate that form of address, so please call me Robert, or Rob. How are you doing, Wolfgang?”

Wolfgang nodded briskly as they ended the handshake. “I am okay, all things considered. My younger brother socked me in the nose and the temple, and you punched me in the mouth. All because **I** was trying to protect my sons!”

“I –” Hogan cut off his reply as something occurred to him. He turned to his friend and asked, “Wait a minute. Wilhelm, why **did** you jump on your brother like that?”

Looking baffled as to why his troublemaker didn’t know the answer to such an obvious question, Klink said, “Why, because he was kicking you in the stomach, of course. What is on your mind, Rob? I can already see the wheels turning in your head,” he teased.

But his friend shook his head rapidly, an amused grin crossing his face as he spoke. “It just occurred to me that we had one heck of a miscommunication,” he informed them.

“How do you figure that, Robert?” Wolfgang inquired curiously, wondering where the former senior POW officer was headed in his line of thinking.

“It’s simple, really. I was out here unloading the groceries from the car with your kids, and you somehow thought I was trying to kidnap them,” Hogan explained. “So, you started to beat me up for it. Wilhelm heard about it and came out here to beat you up for beating me up, and somehow you didn’t recognize him.”

He could see the realization begin to dawn on the brothers’ faces as he continued on. “So, you hit him back. That pissed me off even more, so I hit you because you hit Wilhelm. But that’s when you realized who he was, right as your guys’ mom came out here,” he finished, looking smug at having connected all the puzzle pieces together.

Klink groaned and did a facepalm as he said, “My God, talk about a terrible misunderstanding. And did you have to punch me in the left eye, Wolfie? I already have problems with that one,” he complained.

“What are you complaining about, Willie? I think you may have broken my nose,” Wolfgang told him as he touched it gingerly. “Not to mention clocking me in the side of the head.”

“Well, you had Rob down on the ground and were kicking him in the stomach. No matter the reason, no one is allowed to injure my friend like that. Count yourself lucky that you got in that punch when you did,” the tall German said grimly.

That reminded the oldest Klink brother of something as he looked at the American general. “Yet **you** punched me in the mouth! Why, when I was fighting Willie instead?” he asked, trying to understand what the hell was going on here.

“You hit Wilhelm in the eye,” Hogan responded irritably, moving closer to his friend as he continued to throw off the same protective vibes he’d been doing this whole time. “And I forgot to breathe for a few seconds when I heard him cry out like that. Nobody hurts Wilhelm, and I’m willing to kill anyone that tries,” he growled.

With a glare, Wolfgang growled back, “Are you threatening me, Robert?”

“Nope, just stating the facts. That’s a blanket statement, by the way, so it applies to everyone. Not just you. I would rather die than see any harm come to this man standing next to me,” the younger officer told him adamantly.

Rolling his eyes, the former _Kommandant_ interjected, “Rob, stop being a drama queen! You would not do that,” he stated assuredly.

“I’m not **being** a drama queen! You know how I am by now, and you know that I consider you a good friend of mine. I’ve stood toe-to-toe with Major Hochstetter on multiple occasions, willing to do whatever he and the Gestapo wanted as long as he left my team – and the other prisoners – alone,” Hogan declared with a scowl.

“I’d do **anything** to protect my friends, so do you really think that I’m not being serious right now? Geez, Wilhelm, give me some credit. If I could put you in a protective bubble to keep you safe for the rest of your life, I would. But I can’t!” he finished in a frustrated tone of voice.

Klink sighed as he thought about that. “That is true. But I am not the one who needs to be in a protective bubble, because **I** am not the one who is headstrong and reckless!” he retorted. “That description fits you to a fault, Rob. Perhaps we should place you in one instead. That way, you might have to actually **think** before you act, yes?”

It was his troublemaker’s turn to roll his eyes at that comment. “Please, when have I ever gone off and done something without thinking? Recently,” he said quickly after seeing the incredulous look on the tall German’s face.

“Hmmm, let me think about that for a second,” Klink said sarcastically. “How about when you threatened to beat up Göring in several different ways at Camp Ashcan? All he did was make a few observational statements, yet **you** flew off the handle, Rob!”

“And I still say that was a low-key threat!” Hogan shot back in annoyance.

Wolfgang had been watching the back and forth debate between his younger brother and the American, who did indeed seem to be friends. But now he held up his hands to clarify what he was sure that he’d misheard. “Wait a moment. Did you say ‘Göring’, Willie? As in, _Reichsmarshall_ Göring?” he asked with a stunned expression.

Turning to his older brother, Klink said, “I did. He was the one who personally promoted me to general, and Rob managed to get us a meeting with him. He has done a great deal of other things too,” he said with obvious pride.

Wolfgang glanced at the younger general, who had calmed down by now and looked embarrassed instead. “I think you had better fill me in, brother. I get the feeling there is much I do not know about,” he said.

“You have no idea, Wolfie,” said Klink with a chuckle. Then he proceeded to fill his brother in on everything that had happened since the end of war as they decided who should grab what groceries. Yet he omitted the part about the Unsung Heroes’ operation throughout the story as he told the absurd tale.

The older Klink’s jaw was hanging open as he stared at the American with new respect. “Robert, you obviously care a great deal about Wilhelm as a friend to do such feats. But I –”

“Please, don’t mention it,” Hogan interrupted as he blushed. “I don’t need any type of praise or attention for that stuff. I’m just glad that I could make Wilhelm happy.”

Then he looked at the few bags of groceries he held and changed the subject. “So, what exactly is a switch?” he asked.

“It is **usually** just another name for a bamboo cane,” Klink explained to him. “But sometimes it is literally a thin tree branch. It just depends on the welder’s personal preference and what is available at the time.”

It was Hogan’s turn for his mouth to hang open as he tried to process the idea of being spanked with an actual tree branch. That was one mental image that he could’ve lived the rest of his life without ever picturing, to be sure. “I’m going to guess that having a switch used on you is painful, then?”

“Very much so,” Wolfgang said grimly, wincing as he recalled his memories of it. “It hurts worse than a whip, or so I am told. Have you never been spanked before, Robert?”

Hogan shared a glance with his friend and barely managed to avoid blushing. “Um, nope. Never had that experience, thankfully,” he lied through his teeth.

“Lucky you,” the oldest Klink brother muttered. “Maybe I should have been raised in the United States instead.”

“I have to agree, Wolfie,” Klink chimed in as his own memories of that surfaced and he winced too. “We might have been able to spend more time sitting down.”

“Well, most parents over there still discipline their kids in the traditional way. My parents just believe in extra chores as a deterrent instead,” the younger officer informed both of them. “But why do you ask?”

Wolfgang shrugged as he replied, “Again, lucky you. I only asked because most people already know what a switch is. So it surprised me that you did not.”

Nodding, Hogan said, “That makes sense, I guess. If we’re finally ready to go back in the house, I think we should agree on three things.”

“Please tell me you are not scheming something again,” his friend responded as he groaned and facepalmed, earning a puzzled glance from his older brother.

“Hey, they always work, right? So don’t knock the system, Wilhelm,” Hogan told his friend indignantly.

“Rob always has the most off-the-wall, insane ideas that I have ever heard,” the German officer explained when he saw the look, remembering that Wolfgang hadn’t experienced any of that yet.

“Oh, I see,” the oldest Klink brother stated with a half-smile. That had been an interesting reaction from his normally serious sibling. “What would those ideas be, Robert?”

The American general looked at both Wolfgang and Klink together as he laid out his proposal. “Number one: we need to be at least civil to each other once we get in the house. I don’t want to set a bad example for the kids, you know?”

He paused for breath before he spoke again. “Number two: We can’t go around beating the sh…crap out of each other. I don’t feel like having a switch used on my rear end just because we can’t figure out how to get along. **Especially** not after hearing about how much it hurts.”

With a weary sigh, he added, “And number three: we all need to apologize to your guys’ mom. It doesn’t have to be all at the same time, but we should get it over and done with. I really hate to admit it, but she was right,” Hogan finished, sounding reluctant about the whole concept.

The two brothers looked at each other, processing the ideas that Hogan had proposed. Finally, the older one said slowly, “I can agree to the first two, but you are suggesting that we apologize to our _mutter?_ For what? We were only settling a simple misunderstanding!” he exclaimed, looking offended by the very idea.

“Yes, Rob. I can agree to the first two as well, but not the third one. We are all grown men, and we were handling things as grown men sometimes do. There is no need for that,” the tall German chimed in, appearing to be insulted by the prospect.

“That is true,” Hogan allowed as he thought about that. “But we’re also grown men who are going to be punished like little kids if we don’t appease _Frau_ Klink somehow. And we’d have an audience if that happens too, which is something that I’m **not** going to be able to handle,” he said tenaciously. He was also blushing slightly as he recalled a long-ago threat, one made about that very thing during the war.

“Besides, I could be wrong about this. But I get the feeling that sweet old lady in there is a force to be reckoned with when she’s mad. I’ve got enough problems regarding stubborn women with my own mom, so I sure don’t need any more of them. Besides that, I kinda like being able to sit down, you know?” he finished glumly.

Wolfgang thought that over for a few minutes, replaying his mother’s words in his head. “I guess you are right,” he admitted unhappily. “Willie, it will not be pleasant for us to do. But Robert is right. We both know it…unfortunately,” he muttered.

“Look, I’m not too thrilled about the idea either. But sometimes we have to do stuff that we don’t want to do. That’s just life,” Hogan said reasonably as he looked at his friend. “What do think, Wilhelm?”

“I utterly **loathe **the idea. I have always hated apologizing to anyone, even when I knew I was in the wrong. But you are correct, Rob,” the older man admitted in a distressed tone of voice.

As the younger general picked up what he’d decided to carry in, he asked, “So do we do this as a group thing in the kitchen with your mom, so none of us has to do that much talking? Or individually instead? We need a game plan here.”

“I vote we do so as a group. Like you just pointed out, it will mean less talking for everyone,” Klink said as he picked up his share of the groceries.

“That sounds like the best plan. Should we do it after we bring in the groceries?” asked his older brother as he grabbed the remainder of them. Then he shut the trunk and locked the car while he waited for an answer.

“Yeah, might as well get it over with. And it’s settled, then,” Hogan said with a forlorn sigh as he began to walk towards the house. “Let’s go face the music.”

“Indeed,” the brothers said together as they followed him. Neither one was happy about what they had to do, but they would manage anyway.

**_ Interesting points of view… _ **

“There you boys are! I thought for certain that I would have to come back out there in a few minutes and switch all three of you for fighting,” _Frau_ Klink said coolly. She watched all three men blush beet-red at her words and immediately look at their feet instead, which was encouraging to witness.

“No, _Mutter!_ You will not have to do that, I assure you,” Wolfgang said hastily as he stepped backwards and nudged his younger brother forward. “Tell her, Willie.”

“Oh! No, no, that will not be necessary, _Mutter._ I can promise you that,” Klink quickly agreed, stepping backwards as well and shoving his friend forward. “Go ahead and explain, Rob.”

Rob looked at the two Klink brothers standing behind him and raised his eyebrows. “Thanks, guys. Really, it’s so nice of you,” he deadpanned.

“You are welcome,” they said together, happy it wasn’t them who had to give the initial explanation.

Groaning, he faced forward again and addressed Klink’s mother. “ _Frau_ Klink, can the three of us talk to you in the kitchen? **Alone?** ” he requested, stressing the word ‘alone’ so that she would know that he didn’t want the kids to hear what they had to say.

Giving the former senior POW officer a bewildered look, she replied, “Of course, Robert. All of you, follow me.” Then she turned and walked toward the kitchen to shoo the two boys out of it so they could talk to her.

As she led the way, Hogan noticed that both Wilhelm and Wolfgang made sure to stay behind him. Since he didn’t want Klink’s mother to hear them talking, they began whispering instead. “You guys suck,” he said, beginning the conversation.

“It was **your** idea, Rob,” the former _Kommandan_ t informed his friend.

“Yes, this was **your** plan, not ours,” the oldest Klink male chimed in.

“That’s true,” Hogan admitted unhappily. “But I’d better not be the only one doing any of talking in there.”

“Do not worry, Rob. We are all in this together,” Klink said reassuringly.

The oldest Klink brother looked at the younger one and questioned, “We are?” That hadn’t been what **he’d** planned on doing. His plans had been to let the American do all the talking for both of them.

“Yes,” Klink said firmly. “Rob was humble enough to throw his lot in with you and I when he could have easily avoided doing so. It is only right that we repay the favor and support him on this.”

Wolfgang let out a low groan and shook his head. “Willie, you are too soft for your own good. When did you get so sentimental? When I last saw you, you appeared to be an emotionless jackass. What changed?”

Frowning at his brother’s choice of language, the German officer informed him, “It was Rob’s influence. He showed me that it is good to actually care about people, not merely interact with them.”

Which reminded him of something that he needed to say. “By the way, you need to watch your mouth around your sons. Fritz was using the term ‘damn gangster’ earlier, and Hans informed me that that is what you call the Americans. I corrected him already, but I wanted to let you know about it.”

“Duly noted, Wilhelm,” Wolfgang said as they reached the kitchen and stopped. “Now what are we waiting for?” he inquired in a normal tone of voice.

Hogan pointed towards the far end of the kitchen and replied, “I thought you might want to be the farthest away from your mom, Wolfgang. Wilhelm can be on my other side, and that leaves me in the middle. That way, I can offer both of you some type of support just by merely being there. It also puts me in the direct line of fire, so speak,” he added with a casualness he didn’t feel.

Wolfgang nodded once and followed Hogan’s directive. That was a pretty nice thing to do, and it made him feel bad about his previous plans. He would’ve never volunteered to do that, personally, and it made him think a little differently about the younger man.

Klink looked at his troublemaker, and the expression on his face was one of pride. Hogan had displayed his selfless streak yet again, and he was indeed proud to call the younger man his friend.

In return, his brat gave him that familiar, lopsided grin. The tall German saw it and mouthed ‘I am proud of you, Rob’ to him, receiving a small nod in return as they filed into the kitchen and positioned themselves.

“So, what is all of this about, boys?” Ingrid asked, tapping her foot impatiently. “Which one of you wants to explain what is going on now?”

Taking a deep breath, Hogan steeled himself to start things off. After all, it **had** been his idea. The brothers had been right about that! “ _Frau_ Klink, we’d –”

“– like to apologize to you,” Wolfgang interjected, having made a split-second decision in that moment that he would help out with the group apology. “I should not have attacked Robert like that without thinking, and I –”

“– was a _dummkopf_ too, _Mutter,_ ” Klink chimed in, not about to be the only coward in their little group. “I know quite well how to use my words instead of my fists, which is something that I should have done. So, I –”

“– apologize for socking your oldest son in the mouth,” the former senior POW officer said, having finally recovered his wits from the united front they appeared to be presenting without any prior discussion about it. “That wasn’t okay for us to –”

“– be doing in front of Fritz and Hans,” the oldest son interrupted again. “Or at all, as they did not need –”

“– to witness their _onkel_ beating up their _vater,_ ” the German general added, cutting off his brother as he spoke. “Anyway, we are –”

“– sorry for acting like children,” the three of them finished in unison, looking at each other in surprise. They hadn’t planned for the apology to happen quite like that, but it had done so anyway.

Klink’s mother stood there for a moment, fighting a smile at what she had just witnessed. She could tell that it hadn’t been rehearsed by the way they all kept cutting each other off randomly, but she had to know one thing. “And whose idea was it to apologize?”

The three men all spoke at the same time, each of them giving a different answer.

“Wilhelm’s,” said Hogan, not wanting the credit for this. He also wanted to get his friend back into his mom’s good books as well.

“Wolfgang’s,” said Klink, figuring that maybe their mother might be more inclined to forgive them if she thought it had been his idea. After all, he’d always been the apple of her eye.

“Robert’s,” said Wolfgang, knowing it was only fair for the American to receive credit for his idea.

Hogan gave the two brothers an irritated glance before looking at Ingrid again and sheepishly adding, “All of ours, apparently.”

One corner of _Frau_ Klink’s mouth twitched upward as she talked to them. Even though she had an inkling of what the truth actually was, it didn’t really matter. “I see. Well, I appreciate the apology from all of you, and I accept it.”

It was amusing to watch both of her sons sag with relief, along with Robert as well. He might not have been one of her sons, but he was certainly acting like one of them right now!

“Now, if you do not mind, I have to figure out what I should cook with these unexpected groceries,” she added. “This is such a blessing. Thank you, Willie. And you as well, Robert,” she added.

Klink shook his head as he spoke. “I was merely the driver, _Mutter._ Rob insisted on paying for them, because he said it was only proper. He actually slapped my hand away when I tried to hand the cashier money. Can you imagine such a thing?” he inquired.

“Wilhelm! It wasn’t a big deal. I mean, you don’t just come over to someone’s house and ask them to cook for you without bringing supplies,” his friend protested. His cheeks took on a pink tinge as he talked, ashamed of the praise he was being given.

Ingrid studied Hogan for a moment when she saw that before addressing him. “You seem to be easily embarrassed by praise, Robert. Even when it is merely an action you have done that is a good thing, you do not like to receive any recognition for it,” she observed.

“No, ma’am,” Hogan said with a rapid shake of his head. “I don’t need any type of praise or recognition for the stuff that I do. I just like doing nice things for others, and I try to help people where I can.”

Klink’s mother cocked her head as she considered that point of view. “You are very humble, then. It is all well and good to be humble, but make sure that you are recognized for the deeds you do sometimes as well,” she advised him.

“I’ll keep in mind,” the younger general promised her. _I won’t **listen** to that advice, but I’ll keep it mind,_ he thought.

Changing the subject, he asked, “Would it be too much trouble if you could make a homemade meal for me and Wilhelm? We haven’t had one in ages, and the two of us can’t cook that well,” he admitted with a grimace.

“We’d share the food with everyone, of course!” he tacked on quickly, remembering Hans’ words from earlier. “And if you’re not feeling up to it, I can understand. But I…that is…um, it never hurts to ask,” he finished lamely.

“That would be no problem at all, Robert,” responded _Frau_ Klink slowly. “I…did you just say that the **two** of you cannot cook that well?” she asked in disbelief. “Willie, since when do **you** know how to cook anything?”

“I only made some of the easier dishes you have made for us, _Mutter,_ ” Klink told her as his cheeks turned pink. “We had no money, no way to **get** any money, and no place to buy food immediately after the war ended. We only had the food that was already on hand, so we had to figure out something.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Hogan piped up helpfully. “So Wilhelm made me German eggs, cheese noodles, and potato dumplings. They were different meals, of course, but he still made them. And they tasted great.”

“ **My** brother made that?” Wolfgang asked in a shocked tone. “More importantly, it was edible? That is an incredible feat.”

Nodding, Hogan confirmed, “He sure did. I was a little confused about how he was going to make cheese noodles for us when there were no noodles on hand, but it worked out in the end.”

Ingrid looked at her son with narrowed eyes. “And just where did you learn **that** skill, Willie?”

“From watching you cook, _Mutter,_ ” Klink explained awkwardly as his blush deepened.

“Now I have seen it all. My son cooked a dish and did not poison anyone,” she murmured as she looked at Hogan again. “If I cook for you, may I keep any leftover groceries for my grandchildren to eat?” she requested hesitantly.

Hogan stared at her for a minute, the light bulb clicking on in his head a little faster than it had earlier. “ _Frau_ Klink, you can keep all of the groceries whether you cook for us or not. There’s no kind of condition that has to be met for you to keep them. We were just making a simple request,” Hogan informed her.

“Oh. Well, then yes. I will cook for you,” she told him. “What would you like to eat?”

“Is there enough stuff here to make _Bienenstich_ and _Schinken-Kohl-Auflauf_ , by chance?” he asked. “If not, we can go and get more stuff for you to make it. I’ve heard a couple of people say that they highly recommend trying those two foods.”

“Yes, I am sure you have,” said Wolfgang dryly. “I am also sure that the people who highly recommend it are named Hans and Fritz Klink.”

“Well…maybe,” the American admitted with a mischievous grin. “They did make it sound pretty good.”

“Those are their favorite foods, Rob. Of course they made them sound good,” Klink pointed out.

“I know that. They told me that much,” his friend responded. “And I told them I’d ask if those foods could be made, since I haven’t had any German dishes other than the three I mentioned earlier. Besides, kids are notoriously picky about what they’ll eat, so it keeps everyone happy.”

Then he looked at the older man and asked, “Do you have a problem with any of that, Wilhelm?”

Klink shook his head and said, “I do not mind. My nephews have excellent taste, I will give them credit for that.”

In turn, he looked at his brother and added, “What about you, Wolfie? Do you have a problem with it?”

The oldest Klink male rubbed his chin as he considered the question. “Hmmm, I do not know. Usually, the boys only get their favorite food on their birthdays,” he said.

Hogan nodded as an idea came to mind. “Yeah, they told me that too. But _Frau_ Klink also said there hasn’t been much food around here in the last year or so. So, wouldn’t that mean that they missed their chance to have them on their last birthdays?” he asked reasonably.

“Yes,” said the oldest Klink brother slowly. “Your point being, Robert?”

“My point is, now they have that chance to make up for lost time,” Hogan told him. “I think it’d be a nice thing to do, if you’re okay with it. But they’re your kids, so the decision ultimately falls to you.”

Wolfgang cocked his head, studying the younger general intently for a minute or two. “I have already gathered that you are a decent man. But why do you care so much if my sons are happy or not?”

Hogan blew a breath of air upwards, causing his hair to ruffle slightly. “Because I like your sons. They’re really clever, and they’ve got a great sense of humor to boot. Besides, those two boys out there are part of the future. When all of us are long dead, they’ll still be here and raising families of their own. I don’t know exactly when the tension between my country and yours is going to fade away completely, or if it ever will. But I’d like them to always remember there was at least one American who tried to do right by them, so they won’t grow up bitter toward anyone else who happens to be one,” he explained.

“Wilhelm gave me a chance, you know. He took the time to get to know me. And I mean **really** get to know me, not just a causal ‘hello’ here and there. He would’ve been well within his rights to dismiss me as just another prisoner, only talking to me once a day as required by the Geneva Conventions since I was the senior POW officer. But he reached out to **me,** Wolfgang, not the other way around. He invited **me** to his quarters at night to play chess and talk. And he also invited me to various shindigs whenever some of his brass visited the camp. That way, I had a chance to enjoy some decent food and socialize with other people,” he added.

“As the _Kommandant,_ he didn’t have to do any of that. But he did. And he also treated every last one of us with decency and respect, like the human beings we were. I have friends who were transferred to Stalag 13 both before and after I arrived, and they all said the same thing about the other camps: life wasn’t worth living at any of them. At each one, the prisoners were treated horribly, like nothing more than unwanted animals. For everything Wilhelm has done for me, your brother has my utmost respect until the day I die,” he informed them all with a firm nod.

“I mess with him a lot, don’t get me wrong. Heck, I always will too, because that’s just how we are with one another. But like I said earlier, I’ll kill anyone who hurts him. And I mean that literally, even if I go down with them. At least I’ll have tried, and that’s what matters to me,” the American said, holding his head high with visible pride in his friend as he finished his mini-speech.

Both Ingrid and her oldest son turned to look at Klink, who was blushing a dark red by now. “Is all of that true, brother?” Wolfgang asked. “Did you really –”

“Please, do not mention it. Really, I was not as noble as Rob makes me out to be,” his younger brother interrupted. “I only did what any decent person would do.”

“Willie,” his mom replied thoughtfully. “I can see now why Robert is so protective of you. I would be as well, had I been in his shoes.”

“ _Mutter_ , please. I could not be so cruel to anyone as to treat them like dirt. Honestly, it was a question of honor,” Klink protested weakly.

“Either way, son, I very am proud of you,” _Frau_ Klink said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“ _Danke,_ I suppose,” he replied in a low voice, highly uncomfortable with being showered in praise.

“You are welcome, Willie.” Turning back to her oldest son, she asked, “Well, Wolfie? Do you still have a problem with me making Hans and Fritz’s favorite foods?”

Wolfgang shook his head with a small smile. “Not after that glowing description of my brother’s character, I do not.”

“Good,” she told him as she looked at Hogan again. “In answer to your question, there are enough things to make what you have requested here. But how are you certain that I know how to make those dishes?” she inquired.

The younger man cleared his throat and said, “Your grandsons speak very highly of your cooking skills. To quote Hans when I asked him if you cooked at all: _“Ooh, yes. Our oma makes everything you can think of, and then some.”_ So I’d say they’ve got complete confidence in your abilities, ma’am,” he responded with a grin.

“I would say so,” Klink piped up, having managed to get his blushing under control by now. “That sounds like a vote of confidence to me.”

“You mean five votes, Willie,” his older brother corrected him. “Fritz, Hans, you, me and apparently Robert.”

“That is true. Five votes of confidence then,” Klink said agreeably.

Looking at Ingrid, he asked her excitedly, “So can I tell the boys that you’ll make those foods then, _Frau_ Klink?”

“You may, Robert,” she confirmed with a smile and a shake of her head. Her son had been right before when he said that Robert Hogan acted like an overgrown child.

“Yes!” he cheered, looking very pleased with himself. “I wish I’d known that they just had their birthdays, because I would’ve –”

He cut himself off, looking horrified all of a sudden. “Oh, crap! I’ll be back,” he said over his shoulder as he ran out of the kitchen.

“Robert is a very strange individual, Willie. But I like him a great deal. He is good for you,” Wolfgang announced unexpectedly as they heard a loud noise.

“What in the world was that?” his mother asked as she began the food preparations. “Robert tore out of the kitchen like there were demons after him.”

“I would guess that was Rob delivering the news to my wonderful nephews,” her youngest son deadpanned. “Though I could not tell you why he did that, _Mutter._ I have long ago given up trying to figure out how his clever, yet odd mind works.”

Then he looked at his brother curiously. “And what is that supposed to mean, Wolfie?”

Shrugging, Wolfgang gave his younger brother a teasing smirk. “It means maybe you will learn how to have fun now. You have always been far too serious for your own good, and you tend to be a stick in the mud.”

“I am **not** a stick in the mud!” Klink said indignantly as his mother began to chuckle behind him. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Yes, you are. And just who is ‘everyone’?” his older brother inquired curiously.

“Rob, for one. He said it earlier,” the tall German said in an annoyed tone of voice. “It seems that he discussed it with Fritz and Hans, who agree with him. And so does our _mutter,_ ” he tacked on as his tone became a sullen one instead.

“I am sorry if the truth hurts, little brother. But you can always change that, you know,” Wolfgang informed him in a playful voice as he nudged his brother’s shoulder.

“Wolfie, I am well aware of how to have fun. Just ask Rob,” Klink explained irritably.

“Just ask Rob what?” asked Hogan as he walked back into the kitchen with his hands behind his back. “What’d I do now, Wilhelm?”

The older officer looked behind him to see that his friend had returned, only to frown when he saw him. “Rob, why in heaven’s name did you run out of here like that?”

“Oh, I just realized that I forgot something important. So, what’s up, Wilhelm? What am I being accused of now?” he inquired suspiciously. _Geez, did I somehow make him mad already? What’d I do?_ he wondered.

Klink motioned to a still-smirking Wolfgang as he spoke. “My **darling** brother is of the opinion that I am a stick in the mud. But I told him that I know how to have fun, and I suggested that he ask you to confirm it,” he replied.

Hogan looked at the German general, grinning mischievously but staying silent.

With a sigh, Klink said, “We are not mind readers, Rob. So if you could say what is on that witty mind of yours, I would appreciate it.”

But the former senior POW officer just gave him an innocent look as he said, “I’d love to, I really would. But my mom always said that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. So I wasn’t,” he responded sassily.

_“Mmmmpf!”_ Klink said as he swung his arm, glaring at his older brother as he heard him begin to laugh. “Have you forgotten our wrestling match already? As I recall, I won it fair and square,” he said with a grin.

“There’s no need to gloat about it, Wilhelm,” Hogan said as he folded his arms and sulked. “You took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I beg your pardon? You two had a wrestling match?” asked Wolfgang as he regained his composure again.

“Yes, and I beat him with the same move I frequently used on you all those years ago,” the former _Kommandant_ told him with a self-satisfied expression.

“Did he really?” the oldest Klink brother asked with interest, glad to know that it wasn’t just him that had been fooled by that move.

“Unfortunately, yes. He knocked me to the floor out of nowhere and had me pinned pretty good. I couldn’t get away to get back onto my feet, no matter **how** much I wanted to. And believe me, I wanted to. Then he told me later on that he hadn’t used that move in over two decades, which didn’t help my pride at all,” Hogan retorted irritably.

“Do not feel bad, Robert. I have lost count of how many times I have been taken down by Willie with that same move in our wrestling matches,” Wolfgang admitted, wanting to let the younger man know that he wasn’t alone in that.

“Yeah well, it still sucked,” the American informed him as he changed the subject. “Anyway, we should get out of the kitchen. That way, your guys’ mom has room to work.”

“That would be much appreciated,” said _Frau_ Klink dryly, though she still had a smile on her face from listening to their conversation. She flicked her hands at the three men and added, “Now, shoo! I will call you when dinner is ready.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Hogan with a nod. “But before I forget again, I wanted to give these to you. So, here you go,” he said as he dropped a pair of earrings in her hand.

The earrings were a pair of colorful parrots, made out of sterling silver and painted different colors. Their eyes were made of fire opals, which seemed to change colors depending on what direction they were moved in.

Ingrid put her hand to her mouth and gasped, touched by such a thoughtful gift. “Ohhh, these are gorgeous, Robert. _Danke!_ ” she said as she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “They are perfect. But how did you know that I liked parrots?” she asked.

“Wilhelm told me,” Hogan said as a pink tinge appeared in his cheeks from the show of affection. “If you’re anything like my mom, I figured that you’d use anything practical to take care of your family first and yourself second. So I wanted you to have something that was purely yours to enjoy,” he explained.

“Besides, my mom told me that I should always bring a gift when I visit someone for the first time. And she’d skin me alive if she ever learned that I forgot my manners, because she’s been drilling them into me my entire life. I only remembered these when we were discussing your grandsons earlier, so I’m sorry about that,” he added.

After hearing that, the tall German was reminded of what he’d said to Emma Hogan when they’d met a day or two prior to today. It seemed that European and American customs weren’t so different after all! But he still had a few questions, nevertheless.

“I did? When did I tell you that, Rob?” asked Klink curiously. He didn’t recall ever mentioning that to his troublemaker. “For that matter, when have you had the time to go jewelry shopping?”

The American officer rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes, Wilhelm, you did. You told me the night that you dragged me into the department store to go shopping for dress clothes…for **three hours,** I might add! And I bought them while you were buying my mom’s polar bear earrings at a different register,” he explained.

The older general blinked as he remembered that night. That had been a throwaway comment, and he was surprised that his friend had remembered it. Once again, Hogan had proved just how good his powers of observation were. “Oh,” was all he could say to that.

Wolfgang looked puzzled as he looked at his brother. “You took three hours to go clothes shopping, Willie? But why is that a problem? Clothes shopping is quite fun,” he said.

“Indeed, so how is that a bad thing?” Ingrid asked as she carefully set her new earrings aside to wear later on.

“Rob cannot stand it. He despises dress clothes of any kind, and he had…er…done something to upset me previously. Which I will not discuss,” he added resolutely. “So being as we were going to visit his parents as soon as we left London, that was my revenge,” Klink said with a look of amusement.

“While that is a very unusual way to get revenge, Willie, it appears to have worked. That is, if the expression on Robert’s face is anything to go by,” Wolfgang teased as he noticed the scowl the American was wearing.

“Yes, I thought so,” agreed the former _Kommandant_ with a smug look.

Yet Hogan only gave his friend the hairy eyeball before smiling sweetly. “You’re having your fun at my expense right now, Wilhelm. But I’ll get to have mine at yours later on. Don’t forget, you promised me that you’d ask your mom to tell me **all kinds** of embarrassing stories about you. And you promised you’d sit next to her when she told them too,” his brat stated with an evil grin.

“Willie, did you really say that to him?” his mother asked in shock as she looked at her youngest son. She didn’t know **anybody** who would willing ask their mother such a thing!

Klink groaned and put his hands over his face as he blushed, because he already knew which ones his mother was likely to tell the younger officer. “Regrettably, yes. Me and my big mouth,” he muttered.

His former senior POW officer was still grinning evilly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he talked. “Yep. He sure did, _Frau_ Klink. He said, and I quote: _“_ _My mother has an entire treasure trove of embarrassing stories about me. I will ask her to tell you a few of them when we see her. I believe we may have some of my baby pictures too that you may look at, if you wish.”_ He saw fit to embarrass me – repeatedly, I should add – in front of my parents, so this was his way of saying he was sorry for that. I won’t tell you what he said, but it was pretty awful.”

Wolfgang looked at his younger brother and inquired, “Willie, have you lost your mind? What could you have **possibly** done to warrant that way of making amends?”

“I will not discuss it, Wolfie. That is between me and Rob,” Klink told him in a tone that said the subject was closed. “As to your question, I am debating that myself.”

Then he looked at his friend and added, “I had hoped that you had forgotten my promise, Rob,” in an unhappy tone of voice.

“Nope. My memory is excellent,” replied Hogan cheerfully. “Now, I’m getting out of the kitchen so _Frau_ Klink can cook. It’s getting later in the evening already, and I’m starved.”

“I think that is a good idea, Robert. Come on, Willie,” said the oldest Klink male as he followed his brother’s friend out of the kitchen.

“Right behind you, Wolfie,” responded the tall German. He made sure to get his blush under control while he walked, because he didn’t need any more teasing right now.

Ingrid watched the men leave with a smile. While she didn’t fully understand what had gotten into her youngest son, she knew three things for certain. He was in love with Robert Hogan, as evidenced by his reactions and his methods of dealing with the American. The younger general was also a good influence on him. And lastly, she would be sure to tell the most embarrassing stories she could think of!

**_ Figuring things out… _ **

After the food was ready, everyone sat down at the table to eat. Hogan had to admit that Klink’s nephews were right about their _oma’s_ cooking skill. Their favorite foods looked good and smelled even better, while the taste made him want to sigh in pleasure.

“Wow. This is amazing, ma’am. I’d tip my hat to you, but I’m not wearing it right now,” he told her with a smile.

“ _Danke,_ Robert,” she replied, looking at her grandsons. “I heard from Robert that these dishes came highly recommended to him by a couple of people. Have you ever met them, boys?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Fritz and Hans looked at each other and grinned. “Er…we may have seen them a time or two, _Oma,_ ” Fritz said coyly.

“Yes, we have seen them on occasion,” added Hans, knowing his brother well enough to follow his line of thinking.

“I am sure that you have, my sons. Every time you look in the mirror, to be precise,” Wolfgang chimed in wryly.

Fritz shrugged and looked at his dad with a half-smile. “Perhaps, _Vater._ But that is a secret between brothers,” he replied.

“Did you tell Rob ‘thank you’ for his quick talking on your behalf?” Klink asked them sharply. “Your father was ready to say no to the request, and – ow!” he said, feeling someone stomp on his foot. Since there was only air on the left side of him, he harbored no doubts about who it could’ve been. “Why did you do that for, Rob?”

“Be nice, Wilhelm. Let the young men relax,” Hogan told him quietly.

“Young men? They are children,” Klink said incredulously, forgetting to lower his voice as he talked.

“Hardly,” his brat replied at a normal volume, since his self-appointed disciplinarian had already let the cat out of the bag concerning their conversation.

“Kids are usually those who are seven years old or younger. Both of your nephews are older than that, so…” Hogan trailed off, not seeing the need to finish that sentence as he grinned at his friend’s nephews.

Hans and Fritz grinned back, truly appreciating how the American seemed to stand up for them at every turn. Yet their grins faded as their uncle turned on them with an expression of warning on his face.

“Oops. We forgot to do that, _Onkel_ Wilhelm,” admitted Fritz.

“It slipped our minds. We did not mean to be rude,” said Hans quickly.

Then the blond-haired boy turned to Hogan and added, “Sorry about that, _Herr_ Robert. _Danke_ for making that request on our behalf.”

“Yes, _danke Onkel_ Robert…I, I mean, _Herr_ Robert!” replied Hans as he blushed. He’d let his mind wander when he was addressing his uncle, and his mouth had been on autopilot.

Wolfgang looked at his sons and then at his brother, who – oddly enough – wasn’t protesting the informalities. “I take it you have already discussed how my sons are addressing your friend and worked something out, Willie?” he asked as he took a bite of his food.

Klink swallowed his food and said, “Yes. Apparently, Rob is the one who made the offer for them to call him that. And _Mutter_ is fine with it as well. Thus, I am outnumbered,” he said in disgust.

The former senior POW officer grinned at Klink’s nephews, finding the slip-up rather amusing. “I see I’ve been promoted, huh Hans?” he asked playfully, taking a bite of his food.

The brown-haired boy looked at Hogan and stammered, “I-I-I meant no disrespect, _Herr_ Robert! I swear, it was an accident,” he said hastily.

The last thing in the world that he wanted to do was have either his father or his uncle punish him later on for being disrespectful. Or heaven forbid, both of them, since that had happened on a few occasions. Also, he wasn’t sure how the American would take his slip-up. Like his brother – and unknown to him, his uncle’s friend – he was rather fond of being able to sit down!

But Hogan only shook his head as he swallowed it and spoke. “I don’t have a problem with you calling me that if you don’t. Either of you,” he amended, looking at Fritz to make sure he knew that he was included in that statement. “But don’t feel like you have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay? Some things take time, and I get that.”

Wolfgang swallowed his food, making it a point not to look at his sons. He didn’t want them to feel pressured into making a hasty decision, so he looked away. As he turned his head, he could see all the other adults at the table follow his example. And out of the corner of his eye, he could see his sons furiously whispering together for a minute or two.

Then they broke apart, and Hans was the first one to speak. “My brother and I have talked it over, and we have decided that we would be okay with that,” he confirmed with a nod.

“You’re sure?” Hogan questioned with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “No take-backs, you know,” he said playfully as he winked at them.

Fritz nodded as well and returned the wink. “We are very sure, _Onkel_ Robert.”

Ingrid only shook her head in amusement at how easily this American had charmed her grandsons. He was something special, to be sure. Her youngest son was lucky to have Hogan in his life, and she hoped that she would live to see them figure the other things she knew to be true out on their own. But as it stood right now, she almost felt as if she had gained an adopted son.

After that, everyone ate their meal in silence. Both of the generals were content to enjoy a nice homemade meal, as eating out didn’t count as that for them. Wolfgang was just happy that he could eat his fill of something for once, since that hadn’t been the case in a long while. And both Hans and Fritz were thrilled that they’d gotten to have their favorite foods again. While the war had still been going on, they had been doubtful that such a thing would ever occur again. It was a pleasant shock that Hogan had kept his word to them as well, because they really hadn’t expected him to.

Finally, everyone had eaten enough. After the dishes were cleared and the food was put away, the younger officer thanked Klink’s mother for the meal, as did everyone else. Then he asked sweetly, “So…story time?”

“Yes, Robert. Let us go and sit on the sofa,” _Frau_ Klink replied with a half-smile.

Her youngest son groaned and shook his head, shooting his friend an increasingly dirty look as they filed into the living room. Meanwhile Hogan was grinning like a fool, clearly reveling in the older man’s discomfort. Ingrid sat down on the sofa, flanked on either side by her sons. The former senior POW officer took a seat on the floor, sitting cross-legged as he had before. Fritz and Hans quickly copied the position, one on each side of him.

Then Ingrid began to talk. For a long while, she regaled them all with stories of her youngest son’s misspent youth and the wild adventures he’d had. As the tall German had suspected, his mother had pulled out all the worst ones. Hogan been fascinated by all the crazy things his friend had gotten up to, and he winced at times when the punishment for those things was described. Klink’s nephews were fascinated too, for they had never heard these stories about their uncle before.

By the time she finally wound down, the former _Kommandant_ could fully appreciate why his brat had been hiding under the table at the restaurant in absolute humiliation. Hell, **he** wanted to go and hide somewhere too! But he didn’t have that option where he was at right now. And anyway, he’d promised Hogan that he’d sit there and take it when his mom told these stories. He’d also been blushing a dark red for at least the last fifteen minutes or so, and the smug look his troublemaker was continuously giving him wasn’t making him feel any better.

Once his mother had stopped talking, Wolfgang decided to ask the other dreaded question that was hanging in the air. “So, do you want to see his baby pictures, Robert? We have some pretty good ones,” he informed him with a devious smirk. He was thoroughly enjoying his little brother’s humiliation as a form of revenge for their fight hours ago.

Everyone turned to look at Hogan, who smiled cruelly as he thought it over. He was seriously considering saying yes when Klink looked him in the eyes and showed his single wild card.

“Please, do not do it!” he pleaded with a shake of his head. “I let **you** off the hook when we were having dinner with **your** parents!”

Hogan took a minute to consider those words _. Wilhelm **did** tell me I didn’t have to apologize to him that night when I was feeling the same way he is right now,_ he thought as he let out a sigh. _Besides,_ _I’ve had my fun by watching him squirm all this time._ _Damnmit, and I so wanted to do it too! My morals need to back off, because they’re starting to get annoying._

“No, that’s okay. And Wilhelm’s been the color of a strawberry for a while now, so I think he’s been through enough. Your debt to me is now paid in full,” he finally decided, causing his friend to slump on the sofa like a limp noodle.

“Thank you, Rob. Thank you,” the former _Kommandant_ told him gratefully, even as his brother and nephews groaned in disappointment.

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a half-smile as he looked at Klink’s mother. “So how come you haven’t moved somewhere smaller, ma’am? This place seems awfully big for just you, Wolfgang and your grandsons.”

“There is no money to do so,” Ingrid informed him, looking sad as she talked. “I would love to take my oldest son – and my grandsons – and move someplace smaller. But I cannot afford it. The only reason that we still have a roof over our heads is because Horst paid this house off before he died. We **used** to live comfortably,” she said with a shrug.

“But between his death and the war, life has been extremely hard for us. My retirement keeps the lights on, but that is about it. As I said before, there has been very little food for the last year or so. And it is very hard to keep up with the housework in this big house,” she added.

“I hear that,” Hogan agreed. “As it stands right now, me and Wilhelm have to find somewhere to –”

He cut himself off as something occurred to him. “Wilhelm, can I speak to you alone in the kitchen for a minute?”

“Yes, of course,” said Klink as he got up. He was receiving puzzled looks all around, so he shrugged in reply. “Do not look at me like that. I have no idea what Rob wants,” he said as he left the room.

**_ An absolutely insane, only-Hogan-could-pull-it-off idea… _ **

He had barely gotten into the kitchen when Hogan whispered, “I have the world’s **best** idea!”

“I am rather scared to hear it, but go ahead anyway,” Klink said slowly, only partially kidding. He knew the type of off-the-wall things his friend came up with, so the fact that he thought this was ‘the world’s best idea’ was slightly alarming.

“Don’t be funny. Listen, this is what I’m thinking. We need a place to live, and your mom wants to move somewhere smaller anyway. I think this house is pretty cool overall, so why don’t we buy this house from her?” Hogan said excitedly as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

The German general blinked rapidly for a few seconds, caught off guard by that ludicrous statement. “Okay, just pause for one moment, Rob. First of all, why would we need this big a house for just the two of us? For that matter, who said we were going to be roommates?” he asked in a reasonable tone of voice.

“We don’t, but we’ve got to live **somewhere.** At least you know where everything is in this house, along with all its quirks. Besides, we’d be helping your mom out,” he pointed out. “You heard her just now, it’s hard for her to do all the cleaning and stuff. Which I believe, because it was hard for me and my mom to keep up on the cleaning as well. But there were two of us, and our house wasn’t this big either.”

His troublemaker was waving his hands around as he spoke, growing more excited by the second. “Your mom deserves to live the rest of her life in comfort, not be constantly stressing out over the small stuff. And what about when your nephews return to school in the fall? They won’t be here to help out that much, you know. Besides, homework is a real pain in the butt, and they’ll have a lot more of it as the years go by. I’d like to see them be able to be carefree until they turn eighteen, minimally.”

“You certainly have taken a shine to my nephews,” said the former _Kommandant_ with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow. “But you have not answered my other question.”

Hogan shrugged and said, “I love kids, what can I say?” Then he looked at his friend and asked, “What was the other question again?”

“It was ‘who said we were going to be roommates?’ Stay on topic, Rob,” Klink chided gently.

“Oh yeah, yeah. Well, we don’t have to be. But I’m planning on staying in Germany to help rebuild the place, just like I told you and Burkhalter at Camp Ashcan. We don’t **have** to be roommates if you don’t want to. But it’d be more cost effective, considering that we’ll probably be working together.”

He made a face as he continued talking. “Besides, my mother suggested it to me. I don’t want to hear her nag me, and she’ll do that until the end of time if we don’t at least try to make being roommates work. If we do it and it doesn’t work out, that’s fine. I can tell her that and she’ll let it go. But otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it. She always knows when I’m lying, and I’ve got to talk to her eventually,” his brat added.

With a shake of his head, the older officer sighed. “I have no problem with the idea, personally. As you already know, I do not mind your company. And it would be nice not be alone again,” he reluctantly admitted. “I have gotten used to having you around me quite often in the last three years, and also to you being by my side constantly since the war ended.”

He frowned as he added, “But your mother had that other ridiculous theory too. You and I both know she is wrong about that,” he said, his heart wrenching as he spoke what he refused to acknowledge as a lie. “What about when one – or both – of us wants to have a…er…female ‘friend’ over? That could be awkward,” he pointed out as he made air quotes with his slender fingers.

Hogan rolled his eyes at that lame excuse. “Wilhelm, this place has like four bedrooms. It’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly. “Besides, it’ll prove to her that she’s wrong about that if we live together and nothing like that happens. Got any more objections?”

“Yes, and it is the biggest one,” Klink deadpanned. “Where are we going to get that kind of money? This house is worth exactly twenty-two **billion,** five hundred million _Reichsmarks._ I know, because my _mutter_ has gotten it appraised before. And when she asked about selling it, they literally laughed her out of the building. Where in the name of God are we going to get twenty-two billion, five hundred million _Reichsmarks,_ Rob?!” he demanded to know, thinking that Hogan had finally gone insane.

His friend merely looked at him and said calmly, “So? Remember, the German currency has lost all its value. It takes two point five million _Reichsmarks_ to make one pound, so that would equal nine thousand bucks in British currency, give or take a pound or two. It’s easily doable with a call to London, so long as there’s a radio here I can use for a few minutes. I don’t keep one in my back pocket, you know.”

His self-appointed disciplinarian took a deep breath, swaying on his feet slightly at the thought of all that money. “There is. And I am sure that if you ask my _mutter,_ you will be given permission to use it. But that is not the point, Rob. The point is that you have finally gone **totally insane!** London will never give you that kind of money! That being said, would you like me to call the asylum to come and collect you now or later?” he asked in a completely serious tone of voice.

Hogan glared at the older officer, not happy that he wasn’t being taken seriously right now. “I’m not crazy, Wilhelm! They’re going to be paying our living expenses anyhow, and this is cheaper than paying rent on an apartment somewhere in the long run. Apartment rates go up all the time, not to mention that they’re kinda small. At least here we’ve got plenty of room here to move around without tripping over each other,” he said with a huff. “Which I’ll be pointing out to them, by the way. The question is, do you think she’ll go for it?”

Klink sighed again, a weary one this time. “Rob, I am impressed by your eternal optimism. However, I do not think that even you can pull this off. But if you do, I will personally give you a big hug and admit that you were right in front of everyone. And you know how much I hate admitting that I am wrong,” he offered.

“To answer your question though, yes. Now you just have to convince her that you are not crazy. While you are at it, convince her that **I** am not crazy for even giving this harebrained scheme of yours a second thought,” he added as an afterthought.

“Don’t worry so much, Wilhelm. Everything will be fine, you’ll see. Remember all the favors I told you the Allied High Command owes me? I’m calling a few of them in. So you’re gonna hear me pad the bill slightly,” his former senior POW officer told him cheerfully.

“Any time you tell me not to worry is when I **should** worry the most,” Klink said drolly.

Then he held up a slender hand and said, “Please, do not tell me. I am going to take a page from Schultz’s book right now, because I want to know nothing! It does seem to have worked rather well for him all these years, which is probably how he kept him his sanity.”

Hogan chuckled as he said, “I’m willing to bet that it is. So, ready to go back out there?”

The older man grinned as he replied, “Oh yes. I would not miss the reaction to this for the world.”

**_ Dropping the bombshell… _ **

“Did you boys have a nice talk?” asked _Frau_ Klink politely as she watched her son and Hogan re-enter the room and sit back down.

“Yes, it went very well,” Klink responded as he shot a look at Hogan. “Except for a minor detail, and I am being utterly sarcastic when I say ‘minor’.”

“Which is what, Willie?” inquired Wolfgang with a bewildered expression.

“Nothing overly important,” the German officer informed them all with a shrug. “Just the fact that Rob and I have to live somewhere eventually. And he thinks that the two of us buying this house so that you, Hans, Fritz and _Mutter_ can move someplace smaller is the answer. I told him what this house is worth, and he thinks he can get his hands on twenty-two billion, five hundred million _Reichsmarks_ from London to do it anyway!”

There was perfect silence for a few minutes as everyone but the two generals processed that bombshell, replaying the words over and over in their heads. Finally, Klink’s mother broke the silence.

“Robert, that would be beyond wonderful. But it is only a dream. A fantasy,” she tried to explain to him, touched by the thought nevertheless. “Why would London ever send you that kind of money?”

“The Allies owe me quite a few favors from what I did during the war, ma’am. Let’s just leave it at that,” Hogan answered vaguely. “And like I told Wilhelm, that equals nine thousand British pounds with the current conversion rate. It’s doable, since they’ll be paying for our living expenses anyway.”

“Why would they be paying Willie’s living expenses, Robert?” Wolfgang piped up. “You, I can understand. You are part of the Allied Forces. But my brother is a member of the _Luftwaffe,_ and so that does not make any sense to me.”

“ **And** an honorary general in the United States Army Air Force to boot. He’s got the official papers to prove it,” the younger general said cheerfully. “Actually, he’s got official papers proving that he’s a recognized friend of the Allies as well. Those should be in his uniform somewhere, but you’d have to ask him about that,” he told them.

“Anyways, Wilhelm will most likely be working with me as a consultant if I had my guess. You know, to help things transition smoother between the Americans and the German people. We just have to wait for further orders to come through first,” he stated with a shrug.

“Robert, are you feeling alright? This does not sound like a rational idea in any way,” Ingrid said slowly.

“Never been better, _Frau_ Klink. If I could borrow your radio for a few minutes, I’ll prove to you all that I’m not lying,” said Hogan firmly. “Does that price work for you?”

“Well…alright. It is in the dining room, behind the table,” she informed him. “And yes, of course. But –”

“I hate to be rude, ma’am, but I’ve got to call them ASAP,” the American interrupted her gently as he stood up. “The time zone difference and stuff, you know. I have to make sure I get ahold of the right people for this to work.”

As he left the room, the Klink family all looked at each other for a minute or two. “He is insane. Even the great Robert Hogan cannot pull this big of a rabbit out of his hat,” the tall German finally said.

“I am positive of that. I even told Rob that I would give him a big hug and admit that I was wrong in front of you all if he managed to accomplish this. But I already know he will not, so I am not worried about it,” he added with an air of confidence.

“You must have been very sure of yourself to make that wager, little brother,” said Wolfgang with a smile.

“ _Vater,_ how much money is twenty-two billion, five hundred million _Reichsmarks?_ ” his youngest nephew inquired.

“That is what I would like to know,” interjected the oldest one. “I do not think we have gotten that far in math class yet.”

“And you likely never will, son. That is a great deal of money. There is a lot of zeroes involved,” Wolfgang informed his sons.

“Here, Hans,” said Klink’s mother, having written down the number while they were talking. “This is what it would look like on paper.”

The brown-haired boy took the paper to look at it, which caused his eyes to almost bug out of his head. “Whoa,” he breathed. “That really is a **lot** of zeroes.”

Fritz looked over his little brother’s shoulder at the paper, and his eyes got as wide as saucers when he saw the number that was written down on it. “ _Onkel_ Wilhelm, is _Onkel_ Robert feeling ill at all? That is impossible for anyone to do! How is he going to get his hands on that much money? Rob a bank?” he asked in disbelief.

Klink smiled at the innocent reaction and said, “He will not be able to, Fritz. Rob can do just about anything, but even **he** cannot do something of this magnitude. I –”

He was interrupted by a shout from the next room, calling for them all to come quickly. When they entered the room, Hogan was sitting there with the radio headset in his hand. He also looked extraordinarily pleased with himself as he spoke.

“So, I’ve got London on the line,” he said causally, as if that was an everyday occurrence for them. “They want to know if they can meet us here after the plane lands, and if it’s okay if they send two armed guards to escort you to the bank, _Frau_ Klink. You know, because of the huge chunk of money that we’re talking about,” he added.

“Oh, and they also want to know if British pounds would be an acceptable form of payment. Given the large sum, that many _Reichsmarks_ might take longer to get. They can do it, but it might take months to accomplish. So, is their currency alright with you?”

Ingrid looked at if she was going to cry as she nodded, unable to speak at all for the moment.

His troublemaker held up one finger, motioning for them to stay in the room. “All of that is perfectly fine,” he said into the headset in English. “So you’re sending over ten thousand, five hundred British pounds, right? Good. When can I expect it to…what? Let me ask.”

He turned at Wolfgang, who looked as if somebody had slapped him. “It’ll take about a week to get to us, and they want to know if Wilhelm and I can stay here for that time period. Is that okay?”

The oldest of the Klink brothers looked at his mother, who had tears streaming down her face as she silently nodded. “She says yes,” he replied, sounding somewhat choked up himself.

The American officer nodded to show he’d heard the answer and spoke into the headset again. “She says that’s fine, General Walters. Thanks so much, I owe you one. This is really…what? Yeah, that’s true. It’s actually the other way around,” he said with a laugh.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to…what? Sure, hang on a minute.” He held out the headset to a very confused Klink as he stood up. “General Walters wants to speak to you, Wilhelm. Make sure you speak in English,” he whispered.

“Obviously, Rob,” his friend said with an eyeroll as he took the vacated seat. Then he switched to English and asked cautiously, “Hello?”

_“General Klink, how are you?”_ Walters greeted him over the headset.

“I am fine, General Walters. A little bewildered at the limitless miracles that Rob seems to pull out of nowhere, but otherwise I am doing well. And yourself?” he asked, noticing that Hogan was quietly translating everything he was saying into German for his family.

_“Aren’t we all,”_ said the general with a laugh. _“I’m doing alright, I guess. But I’ve been over here in London so long, I’m starting to sound like a bloody Brit. So what’s this business that General Hogan is yammering on about? We’ve already agreed to it, of course. But Hogan sounded downright excited about the whole thing, and he’s usually the unflappable sort.”_

With a sigh, Klink gave Walters the rundown on what they’d talked about and why, making sure he omitted any money amounts from their conversation. But the general noticed that right off the bat and questioned him about it.

_“Hogan says he needs ten thousand, five hundred British pounds to make this work. Is he accurate with that number? Or is he just pulling my leg for some reason, Klink?”_ Walters asked causally. To be honest, it was too casual for the tall German’s liking. As a result, it set off warning bells in his head that screamed ‘trap!’

“Whatever Rob told you is accurate, _Herr_ General,” he replied carefully, shooting his friend a dirty look for putting him on the spot. “I have been busy running a prison camp for the last three years, so I have not had a lot of time to go on furlough. As a result, I am not up to date on the latest conversion rates.”

The general wasn’t so easily dissuaded, though. _“Yeah? Well Hogan’s been locked up in said prison camp for the same amount of time as you have, Klink. And he didn’t **ever** go on furlough during that time period. Well, at least not officially. So that excuse isn’t gonna fly with me. I suggest that you try again.”_

“I…er…” He looked at his friend, pointing to the headset and mouthing the word ‘help’. With a sigh, Hogan came over and took the headset from him. He also made sure to loudly say, “Oh, for crying out loud, Wilhelm! You forgot what we talked about already?” in English as he gave the German officer a wink so he’d play along. Now it was Klink’s turn to quietly translate for his family as his brat spoke into the headset.

“General Walters, it’s me again. I…what? Yes, I know you wanted to talk to Wilhelm, but it’s probably better if you don’t right now. He’s still in shock, and I…what? Well, because I just sprung this whole idea on him about five minutes before I called you. No wonder the poor guy is still confused. And…what? Yeah, I know that’s mean. But you also already know how I do things by now,” he replied with a snicker.

“Anyways, I could hear his side of the conversation, obviously. So I thought I’d remind you that I got out a lot more often than he did, and…what? No, he was usually too busy entertaining various members of the brass from Berlin. I know that he had to as part of his job, unless he wanted uncomfortable questions asked. But still, it made things almost too easy at times, I’ll tell you that. I…what? General Walters, the only county he’s been to outside of Germany was France until a week ago. And that was only twice, to my knowledge. So, like I…what? Oh, okay. Hang on,” he said.

“The general wants to say goodbye to you,” he stated, giving the former _Kommandant_ a pointed look as he passed over the headset. “We should let him get back to work. He’s a busy man, you know.”

Klink nodded slightly and took the headset, once again switching back to English. “Hello again, General Walters,” he said.

_“Klink, you’d better count yourself damn lucky that you’ve got Hogan there to cover for your ass. Because I can tell you this much, you’re a terrible liar,”_ Walters said in a lower voice than he’d been talking in before. _“Sorry about the mini-interrogation earlier, but I had the old man himself in the room until a minute ago. He was sitting here silently, listening to the entire conversation. So I had to make it look good for him. You understand, right?”_

“I beg your pardon, _Herr_ General?” Klink asked, not faking his confusion for once. “What old man are you talking about?”

Hogan groaned and facepalmed as he heard that information, while Klink quickly got his answer over the headset.

_“You know, the old man. The bulldog,”_ the general told him. When he didn’t get a response to that, he sighed and said, _“Winston Churchill, Klink! Get with the program.”_

“You had Prime Minster **Churchill** in the room with you just now?” Klink asked in amazement, watching his nephews’ eyes widen in shock. They didn’t a translation to recognize that name! Every German knew the name ‘Churchill’, even if they didn’t know his various nicknames.

_“Yes, yes. He wanted to be sure this was all on the level, so he asked me to check it out while he sat here. Remember, I’ve been to Stalag 13 before. I’ve also seen in person how Hogan operates, which isn’t good for anybody that’s working against him. But I was only your guest there for a short while, so you might not remember me,”_ Walters said nonchalantly.

_“Somehow, I got transferred to another stalag for being a firebug, when that definitely wasn’t the case. Can’t imagine who could’ve **possibly** arranged for that to happen,”_ he added dryly. _“Oh wait, yes I can. I’m still pissed off at you for that, by the way, Hogan! And I know you’re probably standing close enough to Klink to hear me, too. So don’t act like you aren’t.”_

“Sorry about that, General Walters,” Hogan called out in English, looking anything but sorry about that event. “It was just a slight misunderstanding. My mistake.”

_“Slight misunderstanding, my ass. More like he didn’t bother to ask me anything instead. He just went off half-cocked, like normal,”_ the general grumbled. _“Klink, does he look at all sorry to you?”_ he inquired.

“Not in the slightest, _Herr_ General. If anything, he looks rather pleased with himself,” Klink reported with a grin, relishing the fact that someone else shared his opinion of his friend.

_“That’s what I figured,”_ Walters responded with a sigh. _“Hogan’s an insolent son of a bitch who uses pretty some unorthodox methods. There’s no denying that. But they’ve also worked every single time too, and he’s one of the finest officers we’ve ever had to boot. So we let a lot of things slide with him, unless it’s something that we can’t possibly overlook. It just makes things easier on everybody, and it helps keep us from going insane.”_

“I could not agree with you more, sir. That has been my policy this entire time,” the German general confirmed, earning himself a scowl from Hogan. “I thought I recognized you when we met, but something was a bit off when we met in London. In the end, I concluded that I was merely imagining things.”

_“Yeah well, I got a promotion. It’s a big jump up the career ladder from a corporal to a general, you know,”_ Walters told him, confirming what Klink had originally thought to be true.

_“Anyway, I’ve got to go. We’ll be sending two of the best shots we have to escort your mom to the bank. If you’ve got any doubts at all, call me on the radio and confirm their identities. They’ll be told ahead of time you might be doing that, so they shouldn’t have a problem with it. And if they do, let me know that too. Cheerio, General Klink.”_

“Er…cheerio,” Klink replied awkwardly as the radio call disconnected.

Then he looked at Hogan and his family, switching back to German as he spoke again. “It would appear that you are a miracle worker, Rob.”

“I already knew that,” his friend announced confidently, still looking entirely too pleased with himself. “And I believe **you** promised to do something if I was. Two somethings, actually.”

Rolling his eyes, Klink frowned and held up his end of the deal. “Alright, alright. You were right, okay?” he admitted as he gave his brat a big hug. “You are also an insolent, mischievous troublemaker,” he whispered in Hogan’s ear before he let go of his friend.

“Thank you,” the American officer responded politely – to both things – before turning to Klink’s mother. “ _Frau_ Klink, I –”

He cut himself off in surprise as she wrapped him in a tight hug, nearly knocking him off of his feet. “Whoa! Take it easy there. You almost bowled me over,” he said with a chuckle as he returned it. “It’s okay, honestly. Ten thousand British pounds should be enough to get you guys a new place to live and get on your feet, right?”

“Rob –” Wolfgang cut himself off and cleared his throat before trying again. “Robert, they are only sending ten thousand, five hundred pounds,” he began slowly.

“Yeeeeah,” Hogan replied just as slowly, not seeing what he was driving at. “So?”

“So, this house is only worth nine thousand pounds,” said the older of the two brothers in that same, slow tone.

“What’s your point?” asked the former senior POW officer, still not understanding where he was going with this.

“My point is, you just said you were giving my _mutter_ **ten** thousand pounds, not nine. You have overestimated by a thousand. Otherwise, that would only leave you with five hundred pounds,” he explained, as if he were talking to an idiot.

“I know what I just said,” the American told him calmly. “And I said it correctly too.”

“But you need money too, Rob,” Klink informed him with a baffled look. “Five hundred pounds is still a decent amount of money, but it will not last for very long. Especially if you are planning on splitting it with me. Which I am not asking you to do!” he said quickly. “I am just stating that fact for math purposes.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m not planning on splitting it with you, huh?” inquired Hogan in that same calm tone, making his self-appointed disciplinarian want to shake some sense into him. “The five hundred is for you, Wilhelm. The ten thousand is for your mom. You know, for everything. It buys the house from her, pays to rent the moving truck, buy some food for her new place, etcetera.”

His blond-haired nephew had been scribbling furiously on the piece of paper that his grandmother had written on earlier, and now he held it up with a frown. “But that would leave you with nothing, _Onkel_ Robert,” he announced with a frown. “I just did the math a moment ago. I even double-checked it twice, and I did not miscalculate in any way.”

“You’re right, Fritz. But I’m good with the money I’ve got already,” the younger general responded with a shrug.

“Which is absolutely none, Rob!” said Klink in frustration. “I can appreciate how selfless you are being right now, but even **you** cannot survive without food!”

“I’ll be fine, Wilhelm. I’ll be starting work any day now, just like you will be. And I’ve got enough money to last until my first paycheck. You know I do, because you saw me buy the groceries your mom cooked that delicious meal with earlier.”

He sighed as he continued to state his point of view. “After all, I’ve been a POW for the last three years, remember? I’m **used** to doing without stuff and only having the bare essentials to work with. I’m not a man who has to have luxury just because I’m an officer. If I was, I would’ve asked to have been transferred to an _Oflag_ from the start,” he pointed out.

“Besides that, if they want me to do my job, they’ll have to pay me money to work. Not to mention that I’m due a **lot** of back-pay. And hazard bonuses too, which will make me a very wealthy man. Really, I don’t mind. It’s only for two weeks, tops. Plus, I get the chance to do something nice for someone else. I’ve told you before how I love doing that,” he added.

With a growl, the German officer turned to his older brother and said, “Wolfie, help me out here. Make Rob see reason,” he requested.

“I wish I could, Willie. Yet I am getting the feeling that we can argue with Robert all day, but the end result would still be the same. I would not put it past him to hide it the excess money in random places throughout _Mutter’s_ new home,” Wolfgang said thoughtfully.

“Do not give him any ideas!” Klink snapped as he looked at his nephews. “Fritz, Hans…what say you?”

“It is not our place to say anything, _Onkel_ Wilhelm. This is an adult matter,” Fritz said with a shrug.

“Yes, what my brother said,” Hans agreed with a half-smile. “Sorry, _Onkel_ Wilhelm.”

“Grrrr,” Klink growled, feeling like he was the only sane one left in the room. “ _Mutter,_ please. Tell Rob he is being foolish right now, because he is being too stubborn right now to listen to me. Please!” he begged, knowing she was his last chance at getting any support on this.

Ingrid had been latched onto his friend for the last few minutes, holding onto him with a death grip as she managed to calm herself down. Now she finally let go and looked up at him, her eyes shining with happiness.

“Robert, you are the sweetest man anyone could ever hope to know,” she informed him with a teary smile. “As long as you are **completely** certain of your decision, then I will accept. Like Wolfie said, you would only find a way to slip the money to me if I did not, and I would prefer not to think that I am losing my mind.”

The older man threw up his hands and sighed in resignation. “I give up,” he told them all. “I might as well board the crazy train with the rest of you, as it is rather lonely being the only sane one on the platform.”

“I am, _Frau_ Klink. I don’t say things I don’t mean, and I wouldn’t have even suggested the idea if I hadn’t already known what General Walters would say about it,” Hogan replied with a sharp nod, trying to ignore what a ham the former _Kommandant_ was being right now.

“Please, I would like you to call me _Mutter._ That is, if you are okay with that,” she requested cautiously. “I do not know what you call your mother, so do not feel as if you have to do it.”

“I call my mom ‘mom’. So ‘mother’ would be fine,” Hogan said agreeably, looking at his friend. “Does that mean I get two older brothers with the deal? I’ve been an only child up until now, you know.”

She nodded as she said, “But only if you want them. My sons can be a handful.”

“Hey! We are not!” protested Klink and Wolfgang at the same time.

“Hmm,” he responded thoughtfully as he pretended to consider that. “Well, I’m kind of attached to your youngest son already. So I’ll take him,” he said playfully with a wink at his friend.

“And I don’t know Wolfgang very well yet, but his sons are pretty awesome. So I’ll take him too, _Mutter,_ ” he decided, shooting another wink at Wolfgang as he made the ‘OK’ sign with his thumb and index finger to the two smiling boys.

“Somehow, I feel like an add-on item,” Wolfgang grumbled as he tried to hide his smile.

“Grow up, Wolfie. You will be just fine, I promise,” the German officer told his brother with a smirk.

“Then it is settled. Robert, we have a guest bedroom upstairs you can sleep in…oh wait. I forgot that the boys are in there,” Ingrid said. “And Willie will be in his old room, while Wolfie is in his. Er…let me think about this for a moment,” she added.

“I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. So I could just sleep on the couch,” the American offered with a shrug.

**“NO!”** the adults all shouted at the same time, making him jump in surprise at the simultaneous response.

“Absolutely not, son. Not after all you have done for us,” Klink’s mother replied with a shake of the head.

“I agree, Rob. That is not happening, and I will not be convinced otherwise. So do not attempt to do so,” Klink said adamantly.

“That is not acceptable, and we will figure something out,” Wolfgang added in the same determined tone of voice.

His nephews looked at each other and nodded before Fritz spoke up. “We could share our room with _Onkel_ Robert, _Oma,_ ” he suggested. “There is both a queen bed and a full bed in there, as you know. If we take the bigger one, my brother and I can share it and have room to spare. So that is not an issue.”

“Yes, we do not mind at all. It will give us a chance to talk to _Onkel_ Robert some more,” Hans confirmed.

Hogan looked at the family that had decided to adopt him and sighed. “Are you guys sure? It’s not a problem, I promise. Anything’s better than a thin, hay stuffed mattress on a hard piece of wood, while only having a thin blanket to cover yourself with.”

“We promise, _Onkel_ Robert. And like Hans already said, we will be able to plot – I mean, **talk** – with you whenever you would like,” Fritz said, looking at the American general with a raised eyebrow.

“Alriiiiight,” the younger general relented, dragging out the word with false reluctance. “But only because you guys rock. Otherwise, I would’ve said no,” he added, coughing to hide his laugh as he heard the intentional slip-up.

“Now that we have that issue sorted out, we should all be going to bed, as it is late. So, get moving, children,” _Frau_ Klink said, shooing them all in the appropriate direction.

“Yes, _Mutter,_ ” replied the former _Kommandant_ dutifully. After all this time away from home, he’d forgotten just how bossy his mother could be. “Good night, everyone…and no more plotting tonight, Rob!” he called out as he headed for his bedroom.

“Got it, Wilhelm. No more plotting tonight. But tomorrow is a new day, so no promises after midnight passes,” he added impishly.

A faint mutter was heard as Wolfgang grinned at his adopted little brother. “You do manage to push Willie’s buttons marvelously, Robert.”

“It’s my specialty, Wolfgang,” said the former senior POW officer with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll learn how to push yours too, eventually. I just need a little time to figure them out.”

“Take all the time you need,” responded his adopted older brother with an eye roll. Then he headed for his bedroom, calling out “Good night, everyone!” behind him.

Hogan let his adopted nephews climb the stairs ahead of him, so that they could show him where he was going. “Good night, _mutter,_ ” he said when they reached the door of the room that’d he be sharing with them.

“Good night, _Oma!_ ” the boys said simultaneously as they opened the door and let their new uncle in.

“Good night dears. Sleep well,” she said as she headed to her own room. Somehow, she got the feeling that her life wouldn’t be boring anymore. If nothing else, her newly adopted son knew how to keep life interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: This is Klink’s family home, but I made it a two-story house instead, along with making it a little creepier:** [https://ia601405.us.archive.org/2/items/klinks-family-home/Klink%27s%20family%20home.jpg](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/55/2d/79/552d79a5a3ddd05d26e8fdb4dc9a633f.jpg)
> 
> ****Americans were generally thought of as gun-toting murderers by the German people. They were also were portrayed that way by Joseph Goebbels, the Minister of Propaganda in Nazi Germany. Thus, the term ‘gangster’.**
> 
> **The reason that _Frau_ Klink doesn’t look that much older than the former _Kommandant_ is because she would have had him in 1896, and women married & had kids a lot earlier back then. For my story, Klink was eighteen years old when WW1 broke out in 1914…so you do the math. :)**
> 
> **_Bienenstich_ /‘bee sting cake’ and _Schinken-Kohl-Auflauf_ /‘Ham and cabbage casserole’ are real recipes and can be found on Google.**
> 
> **There were two different main sections under the** **Hitler Youth organization umbrella. The first one was for boys who were anywhere from ten to fourteen years old, called the _Deutsches Jungvolk in der Hitler Jugend_ /‘** **German Youngsters in the Hitler Youth’. It was abbreviated as DJ or DJV.**
> 
> **The second one for boys required them to be anywhere from fourteen to eighteen years old, called the _Hitler-Jugend, Bund deutscher_ /‘Hitler Youth’. It was abbreviated as HJ. They transferred to this part as soon as they turned fourteen. Then as soon as they turned eighteen, they either joined a branch of the _Wehrmacht_ /‘armed forces’ or the SS. Girls had their own wing of it.**
> 
> **The average cost for a home was $8,000.00. Klink’s family home costs a thousand dollars more because it’s a two-story house with four bedrooms.**
> 
> **It really did take 2.5 million _Reichsmarks_ to make one British pound from what I can find on Google. To say hyper-inflation was a problem was the understatement of all time. I did the math on a calculator, and 2.5 million multiplied by nine thousand equals twenty-two billion five hundred million. (In number form, it looks like this: 25,000,000,000.00) That’s a lot of money.**


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been quite the whirlwind ride since the war ended, but the two generals are finally getting a moment to breathe. How will they adjust to a life without constant secrets? More importantly, will General Klink decide to settle his score with General Hogan?
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading how Hogan and Klink have gone from merely tolerating each other to being good friends. The sequel to this is called **A Passion Born Of Ice & Flame**, which continues the two generals’ story. It will be slash, however. Hopefully, you’ll stay tuned! But if not, I hope you enjoyed this. Oh, and thanks for reading it as well. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _  
>  **Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.**  
> _  
>  _Frau_ = Mrs.  
>  _Ja_ = Yes  
>  _Bruder_ = Brother  
>  _Onkel_ = Uncle  
>  _Mutter = Mother_  
>  _Nein_ = No  
>  _Danke_ = Thank you  
>  _Auf Wiedersehen_ = Goodbye  
>  _Kommandant_ = Commander  
>  _Luftwaffe_ = The German name for their Air Force  
>  _Leutnant_ = Lieutenant  
>  _Gute nacht_ = Good night

**_ At their new house… _ **

True to their word, the money from London had arrived a week later. He’d been expecting a check, so seeing the two armed guards with duffels of money was somewhat of a shock. It literally reminded him of something out of a gangster movie. Hogan had gone along with the armed guards and _Frau_ Klink, both to translate for her and to make sure nothing shady happened. After hearing about how some of the Americans had treated the German citizens, he had left nothing to chance.

While they’d been gone, Klink had helped Wolfgang, Fritz and Hans pack their things into the moving truck. In the spirit of not having to move a lot of stuff downstairs, they’d left the two beds that his adopted nephews used up there. The decision was also a practical one, as both generals wanted to make sure that their nephews had someplace to sleep whenever they stayed the night.

But they’d already decided that his mother’s old room would become their storage room, as neither one of them ever expected to have anyone else visit them in their home. Even so, they’d also elected to put a new bed in there anyway, just in case. Prior life experience had taught Hogan that preparing for ‘just in case’ when possible was always the best plan of action.

Then the older man had given his family a few hugs goodbye. At first the younger general had hung back, giving his friend some privacy to say his goodbyes. But when Ingrid had noticed that, she’d grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the others. Having seen firsthand how formidable she could be, the former senior POW officer had opted not to argue with her.

_“You and Willie must come see us soon, ja?”_ she’d asked him in German, wrapping him in a hug. _“You both have done so much for us, and Wolfgang has much to discuss with the oldest of his younger bruders. I am sure Hans and Fritz would like to visit with their onkels as well, son.”_

_“Sure, Mutter. I’ll tell Wilhelm you’d like him to come visit you guys,”_ Hogan had replied, still slightly unsure of himself around Klink’s family. Even if she had pretty much adopted him, this was all still new territory to him. Besides, he had been raised with manners, and those manners dictated that you didn’t just insert yourself into someone else’s family gathering.

_“Nein, not just Willie. I would like very much for you to accompany him, Robert,”_ she’d told him, giving him a no-nonsense look to accompany her words. _“I would like to get to know you better. Clearly my middle son adores you, and Willie has rarely let anyone get close to him. So if he cares for you, that tells me that you are someone special indeed. Besides that, you are part of the family now. And I expect to see both my youngest and middle son soon.”_

The American could only nod, because what else was there to say to a declaration like that? _“Um, okay. Yeah, we can do that…whether Wilhelm wants to or not,”_ he’d stated with a devious smile, remembering what Klink had told him before about that. _“Family is important, you know.”_

Then he’d inquired if their new beds from the next town over would be delivered and assembled that night, making sure that they had somewhere to sleep that night before they left. After all, he wasn’t just going to let everyone sleep on the floor at their new place! That would just be rude.

Ingrid had confirmed it and laughed as she’d shaken her head. _“You will make a fine match for my son, Robert. I can tell that already,”_ she’d said as she’d given him another hug and let him go. _“Danke again for all that you have done for us.”_ Once the four of them had gotten into the truck, they’d called out the window, “ _Auf Wiedersehen!”_

_“Auf Wiedersehen!”_ the two generals had repeated as they waved goodbye. After the truck had left, they’d looked at each other for a moment silently and debated their next move.

_“Well, I suppose we should probably go and find a place a bit closer by that sells beds, Wilhelm,”_ Hogan had finally asked. _“This is your turf, not mine. Where’s there a furniture store that’s open?”_

After pondering that for a moment, the German general had responded, _“I think I know of one, and hopefully it is still in business. But **I** am driving!”_ he’d added.

Rolling his eyes, the former senior POW officer had replied, _“Fine, whatever. Let’s just get going!”_

Luckily for them, they’d found a place that was still in business in their town. Both officers had decided to purchase king size beds, but for different reasons. Klink wanted one because he liked to sprawl out everywhere when he slept, since he enjoyed what some people called ‘skydiving’. Meanwhile, Hogan wanted plenty of room to roll over and not have to worry about falling off the bed.

After three years of sleeping on a small barracks bunk, the American had thought a little luxury was in order. They’d also bought a coffee table, a sofa, a reclining chair, and a dining room set. The set included four chairs and a small dining room table. While it wasn’t that big, it didn’t need to be. The only people primarily using it were going to be the two of them.

In addition to those things, they’d bought another king size bed for their guest bedroom. The queen ones that Fritz and Hans had used – and would still use when they came to visit – were still in decent shape, but the same could not be said about the bed that Klink’s mother had used. That one was nearly falling apart, so they’d gotten rid of it.

Since the purchase was a large one, the shop owner had promised to deliver all the furniture by the end of the day. The generals had thanked him and returned to their new home to unpack their things. Klink had taken his old room, while Hogan had taken Wolfgang’s old room across the hall.

Right after they’d entered the house, the German general had unexpectedly given his troublemaker a single swat on his butt. **SMACK!** It wasn’t the hardest one he’d ever received, but it had still been decently firm.

The younger officer had jumped in surprise. He was fully healed up by now, so it didn’t cause him any undue pain. But he’d still glared at his friend, his face flushing as he remembered that they still had a score to settle. _“Hey, what was that for?”_ he’d demanded to know.

Annoyingly, the former _Kommandant_ had only given him a shrug. _“Merely testing,”_ he’d replied nonchalantly as they’d begun to unpack their stuff. He’d decided earlier that the best way to test if his brat was actually one hundred percent recovered was to do such a thing out of the blue. That way, he’d get a genuine reaction and not a faked one.

While he’d been satisfied that the younger general was one hundred percent recovered now, he was still angry about having to drag the information he’d wanted out of his friend. So as part of the discipline process, he’d decided to make his troublemaker wait.

Klink had also decided to make his brat wonder if he would opt to spank him any time soon at all! For all his former senior POW officer knew, he might be waiting hours, days or even weeks for his punishment to happen. And that was all part of the mind game.

After that one swat, Hogan had been on his guard. After three hours of nothing else happening, he’d become tenser than usual. Even though their initial unpacking had only taken an hour, his mind still wandered often. And obviously, they’d still had to do things like put away their silverware, linens, food and the like. It had just taken him longer to do his part because **of** his musings.

By the time six hours had passed, he’d been near the end of his patience. Yet he’d had a brief reprieve when their furniture was delivered. They’d had to set up their bed frames, make their beds, and decide where to put the recliner. The sofa was the easy part, because there were only so many places one could put a six foot sofa. But everything was still heavy to move around nevertheless, and so they’d both needed a shower after breaking a sweat.

The American officer had gone to clean up first, changing into his pajamas afterwards. As he’d been getting dressed in his room, he’d heard his self-appointed disciplinarian close the bathroom door and turn on the shower. The normalcy of it all had left Hogan feeling frustrated beyond belief, but he’d known better than to bug Klink to fix the problem he was having.

Still, it’d been utterly killing him to keep his mouth shut. And as he didn’t know how much longer he could continue on if he kept focusing on the situation at hand, he’d figured that he would sort his clothes in the dirty laundry basket into piles to wash later on.

After checking all the pockets out of habit, he’d found two pieces of folded paper in his dress uniform jacket pocket. Grabbing them, he’d walked out to the living room and sat down on the new sofa. Now he opened one of them curiously, wondering what they were.

The first paper was on a normal type of stationary. It was a short letter, which read:

_Dear General Hogan,_

_So I wanted to give you my congratulations on being a general now, ‘cause I know that’s important and all. But I wanted to make you this drawing to remember all of us by too. I know it’s not much, General, but it’s my gift to you. I made the drawing before the war ended, which is why we’re dressed like the way we are and stuff. It’s also why I signed it with my old rank instead of my new one. I was gonna give it to you as a ‘just because’ gift, but I thought this was a better reason to do it. That being said, I really hope you like it, sir._

_Your friend,_

_Captain Andrew Carter_

Then Hogan opened the second paper and smiled. Carter had drawn a sketch of the five of them in their old uniforms outside of Barracks 2, with all of them grinning and having their arms over each other’s shoulders. The image was very detailed – almost like a photo – and was drawn on a thick canvas paper. While Hogan knew that stuff could be expensive, this picture was worth it. From left to right stood LeBeau, Kinch, him, Newkirk and Carter. On the bottom right hand corner, his demolitions expert had signed ‘Sergeant Andrew J. Carter’.

“Damn Carter, you’ve got some serious skills,” he breathed. He couldn’t wait to show Klink the drawing, and he wondered what the older man would think of it.

“What has Captain Carter done now? Should I be concerned about something exploding any time soon?” Klink inquired in an amused tone of voice as he came out of the bedroom in his nightgown, holding a book in his hands. “And language, Rob.”

He sat down in the reclining chair and smiled faintly when he saw the canvas paper his troublemaker was holding. “Ah. I was wondering how long it would take you to find your friend’s present. May I see it?” he asked, putting the book on his lap and holding out a slender hand.

“Um, sure,” Hogan responded in confusion as he handed it over. Klink’s words made no sense at first, until they swiftly clicked into place like a puzzle piece.

“Hold on a minute. You _knew_ Carter made me something and didn’t even bother to tell me about it?” he asked, feeling torn between confusion and irritable. The former senior POW officer was still feeling tense after that swat earlier, and now he was reminded of it again when he’d managed to forget. _Damnmit!_

“Of course, Rob. I figured you would find it eventually,” Klink said distractedly as he looked over the drawing. “You know, you’ve got a very talented young man on your team. He obviously does excellent work, because this drawing is very lifelike,” he complimented as he handed Hogan back the drawing.

Narrowing his eyes, the American general replied, “And just how did you know that, Wilhelm? I think this time, there’s something you’re not telling **me.** ”

“What goes around comes around,” the tall German said with a shrug. “Though to answer your question, I know because Carter gave me a drawing as a congratulations gift as well. It was very detailed, almost like a photo. Which reminds me, I need to buy a frame for it so that I can hang it in the living room,” he added. “I promised him that I would, and it will look very nice on the wall.”

“Really?” Hogan asked, feeling touched that the young officer would do such a thing for his friend. “Can I see it?”

“Perhaps later on, once it is safely in a frame. I would hate for the paper to get damaged in any way,” Klink pointed out. “That is why your captain wished to speak with me alone. He said that he wanted to give me my present first, so that it would be extra special. He did not wish for me to feel as if he only done such a thing because he had given **you** a present.”

With a shake of his head and a smile, Hogan replied, “That sounds like Carter. He’s a good guy.”

Nodding, the German officer responded, “Yes, he is.” Then he picked up the book he’d brought out and began to read it.

Puzzled by the abrupt end to their conversation, the former senior POW officer stared at the older general for a moment. When the older officer still said nothing more to him, Hogan let out a dramatic sigh and laid down of the sofa. It was costing him every scrap of willpower not to beg Klink to finish what they’d started at Stalag 13, but he was managing to control himself. He was sure that he could do this, and he would find the patience he needed to do it somewhere as well.

Two hours later, Hogan reconsidered that certainty. He’d been doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, his mind whirring as he pondered what Klink might use to spank him with this time. Yet they still had to **get** that far first, and the former _Kommandant_ showed no signs of initiating anything of the sort!

Letting out a low growl of frustration, the American rolled onto his side on the sofa and stared determinedly at the tall German. He remained completely silent as he attempted to project his thoughts at Klink somehow. How one person could make him this irked was beyond him, but it was happening anyway.

Behind the book he was pretending to read, the older man had a smile that Hogan couldn’t see. He knew damn good and well what he was doing, and it was all being done on purpose. He was well aware that his brat couldn’t stand being ignored, so part of this was payback for not telling him about his family sooner.

Even so, he had to give his friend credit for not harassing him about finishing what they’d begun back at the camp. He knew it had to have been exceptionally hard for the younger general to do, which was what finally made him give in.

He also remembered that Hogan had previously stated that the shameful factor helped make things sink in more effectively for him. And of course, there was something else he needed to address as well.

**_ Settling the score… _ **

After forcing the smile he had to disappear, Klink closed the book with a deliberate snapping sound. “Alright, Robert. Get up and follow me,” he said, rising out of the chair and walking over to the sofa.

Wondering what was going to happen now, Hogan looked puzzled. “Um, okay. Where are we going, Wilhelm?” he inquired as he stood up.

“To the bathroom,” the tall German replied causally. Then he reached out and took ahold of his troublemaker’s hand, dragging him in that direction.

“The bathroom?” Hogan repeated, letting himself be drug along. _What’s Klink up now?_ he pondered. “Why?”

“You will see soon enough,” came the vague reply.

“Look, every time you’ve told me that in past, it’s never ended well for me. Could you be a little more specific?” the American general inquired as they reached the bathroom entrance.

“In a moment, yes.” Then Klink let go of his hand and pointed to where the sink was. “Go stand over there.”

A familiar feeling of discomfort came over Hogan as he followed the directive given to him. While he hoped that his gut feeling was wrong, that had never been the case any other time. He could think of only one reason why they would both be in the bathroom at the same time, and it jibed with an offhand comment the former _Kommandant_ had made once before to him.

“Okay, so…why are we in here together? And why did you just close and lock the door?” he asked, his feeling of unease growing by the minute.

Klink turned around, wearing an evil smile as he explained what was happening. “Because, my dear Robert, I am going to wash your mouth out with soap as part of your punishment. Or did you think I had forgotten the many colorful metaphors that you used at Camp Ashcan?”

**“WHAT?”** the former senior POW officer exclaimed. He could put up with a lot of things, but this was where he drew the line! “You’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m going to let that happen,” he added.

“And there is yet another example of your foul mouth. A proper gentleman should not use such filthy language,” Klink scolded him.

Yet while he’d been talking, his brat had covered his mouth with both hands and backed up towards the shower. “Now, come here and stand by me.”

Hogan shook his head quickly, unwilling to cooperate in the slightest way with his self-appointed disciplinarian on the subject. Due to his mouth being covered, his words were slightly muffled. “Uh-uh. Nope. You can just forget it, because I’m not doing that,” he responded.

Letting out an irritated sigh, the German general replied, “I **said** come here and stand by me, young man. Do not make me drag you over to the sink,” he warned.

But his troublemaker only shook his head again. “No! That’s embarrassing, and just…no!”

Was Klink crazy? He wasn’t a little kid, damnmit! He was almost forty, and that was something everyone seemed to conveniently forget most of the time.

“You just never seem to learn, Robert,” Klink said as he stalked over to his friend and grabbed him by the hand again.

Then he pulled him back over to the sink as he said, “You always insist on making life difficult for yourself. Now quit being a brat and stay right there while I soap up the toothbrush. If I have to drag you over here again, you will be very unhappy indeed. Do you understand me?” he asked.

Rolling his eyes, the American officer snapped, “Yeah, I understand what you said. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to it. I’ll put up with a lot from you, but I won’t put up with **this!** Who or what gives you the right to even **think** you can do this to me?” he demanded to know.

“Your mother, if you must know,” the older man said calmly, turning on the water to wet the toothbrush. “She granted me full permission to discipline you as I see fit, telling me that _“My son needs a keeper.”_ She also requested that I do so on both her and your father’s behalf if I thought the reason was something they would not approve of.”

The evil smile returned as he set the toothbrush aside and began to later the soap, making sure to create plenty of suds while he talked. “To be fair though, I **did** ask if she wanted me to go easy on you at any time if I were to spank you on their behalf. I believe her exact response was _“Heck no! Make sure you do it just as hard as you would any other time. Robbie has years of back-talk and disrespect to catch up on.”_ So as you can see, I have every right to do this to you, Robert,” he explained patiently.

Hogan watched the tall German lathering the soap, eying the growing pile of suds with dismay. He wasn’t happy about the answer he’d been given, but he also knew that the former _Kommandant_ wasn’t lying. Mostly because he could still hear in his head what his mother had said to **him** on the subject.

_“_ _I’ve already asked Wilhelm to keep an eye on you, and to bust your butt whenever he feels it’s needed. Which he said he’d be happy to do, and he also said that he’d do it on both my behalf and your father’s. And no, he won’t go easy on you during those times either.”_

The last thing that the younger officer wanted was for his mom to hear that he’d directly disobeyed her when she’d told him to do something. While Emma Hogan was generally a laid-back type of person, she wasn’t one to tolerate disrespect. Not from anyone, and certainly not from her own son. Hogan had done enough extra chores in his lifetime from being flippant and mouthy to prove that much. And really, it was just soap. It probably wouldn’t taste that great, but it wouldn’t kill him either.

Still, he had to protest this sort of treatment on principle. “But Wilhelm, you’re not supposed to put soap in your mouth. It says very clearly ‘Do not eat’ on the label. And I’m an adult, so I’m allowed to swear if I want to,” he huffed as he folded his arms instead.

“Not around me, you are not. I find swearing to be the lowest form of communication, something that only a stupid person would use. Tell me, Robert…are you stupid?” Klink inquired, ignoring the ‘do not eat’ comment.

Raising his eyebrows, Hogan responded, “No. Still, I –”

“And that sort of filthy language is also something that an individual who is well-spoken would not use. Only someone who is ignorant would do so,” the older officer interrupted him. “Now, are you well-spoken or not?”

The American general had a nasty feeling that he was being played again, but he answered the question anyway. “Well, yeah. But –”

“Then that settles the matter,” Klink said adamantly as he made sure the toothbrush had plenty of sudsy lather on it. “You are neither stupid, nor are you an ignorant person. Therefore, you have no need to use such language.”

Once he’d done that, he stood in front of his brat and added, “Now open your mouth, troublemaker. I will be scrubbing your teeth and tongue with this, and you need to hold still so that I do not accidentally choke you with the toothbrush. Do not close your mouth or spit the soap out until I tell you it is okay to do so, either. Do you understand me?”

Hogan rolled his eyes and groaned, not wanting to admit that those were some valid points. “Yeah, I understand,” he grumbled unhappily.

In a last-ditch effort to get out of the situation, he gave the older man his best puppy dog eyes expression. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work this time. His friend was dead set on completing his task, so he wasn’t falling for it like he normally would.

“A nice try, Robert, but I will not be deterred. Now, open your mouth!” Klink said irritably. “Make sure you stick out your tongue as well, so that you do not accidentally swallow the soap.”

Looking as sulky as he possibly could, the younger man reluctantly opened his mouth as he’d been directed to do. Then he stuck out his tongue, positively hating his life right now. “Ahh,” he said gloomily.

“Good boy,” Klink praised his brat, knowing that this had to be extremely embarrassing for Hogan. He knew he hadn’t liked having his mouth washed out with soap as a kid either. Still, it’d been extremely effective the one and **only** time that he’d thought to use such language within his parents’ earshot.

“Just hold still, and do not fight me. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner we can move onto the next part of your punishment,” he stated.

Before the former senior POW officer could fully process what that meant for him, he felt the toothbrush begin to scrub his teeth. Being as he couldn’t taste the soap on them, it wasn’t too bad. It was kind of a weird feeling to have his teeth brushed for him, but not overly terrible. Then his self-appointed disciplinarian began to brush his tongue next, which caused him to jerk away impulsively.

“Ewww, that tastes **gross!** ” Hogan exclaimed, spitting the soap into the sink. “Blech!” he added, spitting more of it out as well.

With a growl, the tall German snapped at him, “You were warned, Robert! Now I must start all over again.”

“Please don’t, sir. It tastes absolutely horrible. You’ve made your point already, and that’s that you don’t want me to cuss. I’ve got the concept,” the American general replied hastily.

With a long-suffering sigh, Klink looked at his brat as he turned on the water and began to lather the soap up again. “I do not feel that I have, young man. Every instruction I have given you so far you have willfully disobeyed. I told you to come and stand by me after you backed away, and you blatantly refused. So, I had to drag you back over to where you had been previously. I told you to open your mouth, and you refused to do that too,” he said.

“You were directed not to move, yet you jerked away from me. You were also specifically told **not** to spit out the soap, but you did that as well. Not to mention that when I originally informed you of what was going to happen, you used such unbecoming language yet again,” he explained.

Then the former _Kommandant_ turned off the water again and held up the now-sudsy toothbrush. “So, let us try this again. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, Robert.”

“I’m not going to! Like I already said, you’ve made your point. And I won’t let you do that to me again,” Hogan said rebelliously as he stomped his foot. “Now move out of my way so that I can unlock the door and leave.”

“No!” Klink shot back. “You claim that I have already made my point, but you are being brattier than ever before. We still have the second part of your punishment to handle after this, as I am sure you are aware of. Yet you are delaying that coming to pass, when **you** are the one who was begging me to finish it back at Stalag 13!”

Rolling his eyes, he reminded Hogan of what it was. “In case you have somehow forgotten, Robert, that punishment is a lengthy bare bottom spanking. Which, by the way, is already not going to be pleasant for you. And you are only making it worse with every minute that you do not listen to me!”

The older man glared at the younger one, unable to believe how defiant his former senior POW officer was being over a little bit of soap. “Above all, you are wearing my patience very thin right now. So, unless you would prefer to hold some Tabasco sauce for a few minutes in that insolent mouth of yours instead, you **will** cooperate with me! You have already been told what to do, and I will not say it again, troublemaker.”

The two generals locked eyes and stared at each other, each unwilling to break down from the challenge that Klink had issued. Yet Hogan decided to look away after a full minute had passed as he stared at his feet. He’d tasted hot sauce once before, but he hadn’t liked it at all as it made his stomach upset. He didn’t eat spicy foods for that very reason, and he knew that the German officer didn’t eat anything spicy either.

But his brother Wolfgang did, which is why they even had any hot sauce in the house to begin with. He’d wondered why the former _Kommandant_ had asked his brother to keep the half-empty bottle of it. Well, now he’d found out why.

As he made a mental note to throw the bottle in the trash, he gave in at last. “Fine. Just hurry up and get it over with…sir,” he griped as he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue again grudgingly.

“Good boy. See? That was not so difficult, now was it?” Klink said in a soothing voice as he began to scrub Hogan’s teeth with the soapy toothbrush again. He was fully prepared for the American officer to jump away from him again when the German general began to scrub his tongue, but he stayed right where he was. True, Hogan was squirming in place and giving him an increasingly dirty look. Nevertheless, he endured the punishment anyway.

Once he’d made sure that he had meticulously scrubbed every inch of his troublemaker’s mouth with the soapy toothbrush, he backed up just slightly so his brat would be able to access the sink when the time came. “We are almost done with this part of your punishment. But do not spit out the soap yet, Robert. I want you to close your mouth and swish it around for thirty seconds without swallowing it. Nod if you understand what I have told you to do,” he said.

Hogan could honestly say he never wanted to experience this ever again in his life. The soap tasted terrible, and it mortified him to have his self-appointed disciplinarian doing this to him. The only thing he was glad about was that nobody could see this happening to him right now.

When Klink had stepped away from him, he’d thought it was finally over. Yet he’d guessed wrong. And when the next directions were given to him, he gave the former _Kommandant_ a look of sheer indignation before he slowly nodded.

After receiving the nod, Klink looked at his watch and added, “And…go!” He alternated looking at the seconds hand on his watch and keeping an eye on his former senior POW officer, who was doing exactly what he’d been told for a change.

He was positive that those thirty seconds seemed to drag on forever for his friend, and he was also sure that the younger general was relieved when he said, “Okay, young man. Go ahead and spit out the soap, and you may brush your teeth if you would like. This part of your punishment is over with.”

Then he watched with amusement as Hogan immediately spit out the soap, making various noises of disgust. At one point, his troublemaker almost grabbed the soapy toothbrush to brush his teeth and tongue. Luckily for him, he remembered just in time what that one had been used for!

Klink began to laugh as he watched the American officer quickly grab his own toothbrush and put the toothpaste on it instead. Then Hogan proceeded to remove all traces of the soap out of his mouth for the next five minutes, scrubbing furiously the entire time.

“It’s not funny, Wilhelm,” his brat complained as he shut off the water and wiped his mouth. “That was just cruel. I’ve never tasted something so horrid in all my born days!”

“I found it quite amusing, Rob. I have never seen anyone brush their teeth so thoroughly before,” Klink pointed out with a half-smile. “By the way, that part was on behalf of your parents, as well as myself.”

“Yeah, you would think that. But you wouldn’t think it was so funny if it’d been you,” his troublemaker pointed out while ignoring the rest of that sentence.

“Ah, but it **has** been me. Exactly one time, after which I learned not to use such words,” the older officer informed him. Then the smile faded away as he added, “And now it is time for the second and final part of your punishment, Robert.”

Hogan could feel his stomach tightening again, remembering what his self-appointed disciplinarian had told him regarding that subject earlier. “Oh boy. So, what am I supposed to do next?” he asked warily.

Klink unlocked the bathroom door and opened it, stepping out into the hallway as he spoke. “Next? You are to go and put your nose in that corner, for starters,” he stated firmly, gesturing to the wall that was to the left of the sofa.

“Huh?” asked the younger officer in surprise. _That wasn’t something I was expecting to hear,_ he thought.

“Did. I. Stutter?” the former _Kommandant_ asked slowly, glaring at his brat. “Do as I say, young man!”

Well, he didn’t need to be told again. The American general almost ran out of the bathroom as he scrambled to get over to where he’d been told to go. And as he moved toward the aforementioned corner, he almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. For better or worse, Klink had apparently decided to take pity on him in that aspect. _And thank God for that,_ he thought. _I don’t think I could’ve held out much longer._

The tall German just shook his head in amusement as he watched the swift movements. Once Hogan was standing in the corner, Klink left the hallway and walked over to his friend. He made sure to move at a leisurely pace, heightening the anticipation and giving himself time to fully slip into his role.

Feeling absolutely silly as he stood with his nose in the corner like a little kid, Hogan was secretly happy that he’d been able to avoid begging Klink to spank him. At some point, his life had taken a serious detour if that was even something he needed to worry about.

He wasn’t too happy about what had just happened, though. Even though he could see the logic in what he’d been told, that didn’t mean he had to agree with it.

Still, his self-appointed disciplinarian had remembered what he’d said before about these types of situations. This was obviously a tactic being used to make him feel embarrassed, something that was confirmed when he heard the older man’s voice near his ear and jumped in surprise.

“Geez, make some noise or something next time, would you? You move way too quietly,” Hogan griped. It got him an immediate swat on his butt and a stern response.

“Do not presume to tell me what to do, Robert. Now, put your hands on your head. Lace your fingers together as well, and keep them there until I tell you otherwise,” Klink said resolutely.

Sighing in resignation, Hogan obeyed the order as he responded, “Yes, sir.”

He knew the game by now, or at least he **thought** he did. When he felt his pajama bottoms yanked down to expose his bare behind though, he wasn’t entirely sure of that anymore. “Hey! I –”

“You will remain completely silent while you stand with your nose in the corner. Like any naughty boy, you should be thinking about why you are in trouble yet again while you wait. Furthermore, you will refrain from moving from this spot while I gather the tools that I need to administer your discipline. If you do so, you will receive a much worse spanking than you have already earned yourself from being stubborn previously. Do I make myself clear?” Klink interrupted him, warming to his role. If Hogan wanted humiliation, he could easily do that. He had prior experience with these matters, after all.

Unwilling to risk angering the tall German further, Hogan nodded once. No talking meant no talking, and he wasn’t going to be tricked that easily. But he wasn’t used to having his bare behind exposed until **after** he was already over Klink’s lap. And so, when he felt a gentle pat on his butt, he visibly jerked at the unexpected light touch. Thankfully, he was able to keep his hands on his head anyway.

“Good boy,” Klink said in an approving tone of voice. “And I can see you from where I am going, so do not play games with me! I will return for you shortly.”

Then he just shook his head as he left to gather what he needed, making sure he really could see his troublemaker at all times. While he’d been bluffing a minute ago about his brat making his spanking worse for himself, he hadn’t been lying about how pleasant it would be. Or rather, not be. Yes, it was already going to be somewhat worse due to Hogan’s prior uncooperativeness, but it wouldn’t go any further than the new plan he’d made.

As it didn’t take him overly long to find both items, the older officer sat down quietly and set the implements on the sofa next to him. Then he let Hogan stew for a little bit as he considered how it was best to do this, watching with a half-smile as the younger man across the room shifted from foot to foot nervously for a few minutes. If there was one thing Wilhelm Klink was quite accomplished at, it was being a disciplinarian. And he knew just what it took to get through to people who were thick-headed.

Meanwhile, it felt like an eternity since Hogan been standing in the corner, waiting for his punishment to begin. He could feel the cool air brushing across his rear end, and he was grateful that it dried the moisture on his skin that was left over from his shower. Especially as he’d just been in the slightly steamy bathroom a few minutes ago. If being spanked on a dry butt hurt, he didn’t even want to picture how it would feel on a wet one!

Yet he had to admit that standing there in such a way had a profound effect though, as it kept his mind focused on what was yet to come. As he’d been told to do, he considered exactly **why** he was going to be punished this time. The incident with Schultz and his stupidity in not telling Klink about his family sooner came to mind, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

_What’s he gonna use on me? More importantly, how badly is it going to hurt?_ Hogan pondered, wondering just how much worse he’d managed to make things for himself with his actions in the bathroom.

The German general could tell by the fact that Hogan had stopped moving around that he was deep in thought. He waited until after his friend been standing in the corner for about ten minutes before he cleared his throat, moving onto the next phase. “You may turn around now, Robert. Keep your hands where they are and walk towards me, stopping on my right hand side,” he directed.

He’d made sure that the pajama bottoms still covered the front bits, but Hogan’s behind was completely unprotected. Of course, both implements were where his brat could clearly see them on the sofa once he turned around.

As if the universe decided he needed to find out the answer to the questions on his mind, he heard the command from Klink and jumped again. Damnmit, the former _Kommandant_ really did move far too silently. When had he even returned to the room?!

When he turned around, the first thing he saw was the older man sitting on the sofa. His eyes automatically searched for any implements nearby, and he gulped as he saw them. The wooden ruler and the plastic spoon with holes were what had been chosen. Neither one was a friend of his. Not that **any** implement was a friend of his in that respect, but some things hurt less than others.

Deciding he ought to get moving quickly before he made his self-appointed disciplinarian even more upset, the American trudged over to the German officer. After he got there, he stopped on Klink’s right hand side and looked at his feet.

Now that he was here, he let himself feel the full amount of shame in what was going to happen to him. As previously directed, his hands remained on his head, and he stayed silent while he awaited further instructions to be given to him.

“So, young man,” Klink began, drumming the ruler gently on his thigh. “You should know first of all that I am being merciful by spanking you tonight. I was originally going to wait another two days to do so.” As he spoke, he watched Hogan swallow hard, shaking his head silently in protest of that idea.

“However, I am a fair individual. You have not requested for me to punish you once since we left Luxembourg. and I am aware that must have not been easy for you to do. Is that correct? You may give a verbal answer to my questions,” he added as an afterthought.

“No sir, it wasn’t,” his former senior POW officer replied cautiously, feeling extremely tense by now.

“I can assure you that you did very well by obeying my instructions. In turn, I will be lenient with you by not making you wait for those two days to be up,” the former _Kommandant_ stated in an even tone. “Now tell me, Robert…why are you going to be spanked like a naughty boy? Or why is it happening yet **again,** I should say?”

Feeling his stomach beginning to form knots, Hogan responded to the inquiry. “Because I didn’t tell you earlier about Schultz seeing our tunnel. I also didn’t tell you that he knew of all the stuff we did during the war when I told you about everything else.”

He already knew this was going to be extremely painful to him, and he questioned his sanity yet again as he continued to talk. “In addition to that, I didn’t tell you about your family being alive. And finally, because you’re still mad about all the stuff that I told you about back at Stalag 13…which I haven’t cleared my slate with you on yet,” he finished glumly, feeling quite sorry for himself already.

Nodding in confirmation, his self-appointed disciplinarian told him, “I concur that all of the above are true statements. Now, is there anything else you would like to tell me about, Robert? Before I wear your bottom out, making you sorry that you ever engaged in such unacceptable behavior?”

It was only meant to be a causal question. Thus, it came as a surprise when the response he got was anything **but** casual.

Shaking his head frantically, Hogan said, “No! No sir, I swear! I’ve told you everything, I promise!”

Shit, had he forgotten about anything somewhere along the line? Or was this just a mind game to mess with his head? He dearly hoped that he hadn’t, or things could get ugly fast.

Raising his eyebrows at the unusually panicked reaction, Klink spoke to him again. “Very well, then. I am going to put you over my lap now, alright? And then I am going to make you an extremely sore, very well-spanked little boy for your foolish actions.”

Even as he marveled at how well his friend could act and be believed while doing it, the younger general felt the knots in his stomach turn to lead. He remembered quite well how tenderized his butt had been after the last time he’d been told that, thank you very much. So he couldn’t say that he was looking forward to a repeat performance.

“Yes, sir. And…and then we’re square? You’ll forgive me?” he asked quietly as he let himself be guided into place over the older man’s lap. The hated yet familiar position was strangely comforting to him somehow, though the idea of the imminent pain to his rear end wasn’t.

With a sharp nod at the hopeful inquiry, Klink gave his troublemaker a response as well. “Affirmative. As soon as this punishment is all the way over with, you will be completely forgiven for everything. Your slate with me will also be wiped totally clean as well. But you will have shed many tears by the time that happens, I can promise you that,” he warned.

“I understand that, sir. I’m sorry for upsetting you in the first place,” Hogan whispered as he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see the first swat prepare to land, nor did he want to see what implement was used first.

**_ Wiping the slate clean, part one… _ **

“I hope that you mean what you are saying this time, Robert. I really do,” responded Klink as he picked up the wooden ruler. After much debate, he’d decided in the end that it would be best to get the worst implement out of the way first. Raising it in the air, he stated, “Here we go,” as he brought it down.

**SMACK!** The first swat hit one of his brat’s sit spots, triggering a most interesting reaction. Hogan literally yowled like a cat, leaping upward and backward at the same time. Amazingly, he landed on his feet as he rubbed the smacked area. “Owww!”

“Robert, get back over here,” the former _Kommandant_ ordered, even as he attempted to figure out how his friend had performed such a move.

“Sir, please. That hurt so much just now! Please, use something different to punish me,” the American begged. As he spoke, he moved backwards so that he was just out of the tall German’s reach.

“Young man, I am giving you exactly two choices. Either you can either get back over here willingly, or I can come and get you instead. Either way, you are going to get a well-deserved spanking. But rest assured you will not like the consequences if I have to drag you back over here,” Klink threatened, wondering if he’d have to do just that for the second time tonight.

It seemed to work, because his friend returned to his side before draping himself over the older general’s lap of his own accord. “See, look! I’m cooperating with you. But sir, please. Please, I’m begging you. Don’t use the wooden ruler on me! It hurts too bad,” Hogan pleaded desperately.

With a sigh, Klink grabbed his former senior POW officer around the waist to hold him there and pinned his legs as he spoke. “Regrettably for you, I picked something that would hurt a great deal on purpose. You were quite disobedient when you were given instructions to follow in the bathroom earlier. And you neglected to tell me that my family was still alive, Robert! You put me through all that mental anguish for **days,** and now I am repaying you in kind with an equivalent in physical pain.”

“Wait, hold on. You’re gonna punish me for **days?** ” his troublemaker asked in an alarmed tone of voice, hoping to all that was holy that he’d misunderstood that statement. “I just wanted you to be able to enjoy your time with me in the United States without feeling obligated to go see your mom. I wasn’t trying to make you upset, or hide anything from you either! Please, you have to believe me!”

“I believe your intentions were pure, that is true. But the fact remains that it backfired. And no, I will not be punishing you for days. Just for tonight, but you will **wish** days had passed when I am through with you!” Klink informed him. “Now, be a good boy and take your punishment.”

After lifting the ruler again, he brought it down six more times on the younger general’s sit spots. As he’d done before, he alternated between the left one and the right one with each swat.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** “Owww! Owww, OW, OW!” he exclaimed, the wooden implement already beginning to sting. Those spots were the most tender part of his butt, and his self-appointed disciplinarian knew it quite well. The ruler wasn’t a friendly implement either.

He was in the process of debating whether or not he preferred wooden or leather ones when more swats landed on his sit spots. **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Aaagh! Sir, please, that’s really painful,” Hogan griped. Normally he was okay for a little while before he started complaining, but starting off with those swats to the most sensitive part of his behind hadn’t been in his sitting down ability’s best interests.

“It is **supposed** to be painful, Robert. Did you think perhaps that your punishment was going to be enjoyable?” inquired Klink dryly as he continued to punish Hogan with the ruler.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“Oww, Owww, OW! No, but it shouldn’t sting this badly though. At least, not yet. OW!” the American responded as he focused on not squirming around. Not that he really could, mind you, since his legs were pinned this time. His friend also held him tight around the waist, so there was no hope of another escape attempt either. “OW, OW!”

“I do not see why it would sting any more than normal, as you are fully healed from the hairbrush spanking you received back at Stalag 13,” Klink told him, changing the focus of the swats to his buttcheeks while they had their conversation. “Believe me, I checked before I did anything else. Four times, as a matter of fact.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW! Four times?” Hogan repeated as the fire started to burn hotter in his rear end. When had the former _Kommandant_ checked at all, let alone that many times?

Being as nobody ever got the answer to anything by just mulling it over, he asked the question out loud. “OWW! When did – OW! – you – AAAGH! – do that four – OW! – times, sir? OWWW!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

As he continued to spank his oftentimes disrespectful charge, Klink explained how he’d accomplished that. “The first time was the single swat I gave you hours ago,” he began, never letting up with the ruler once. “I had to test you unawares, to be sure you would not lie to me about what you could handle.”

“OWWW, OWW! That’s what you meant by ‘just testing’?” his brat demanded irritably. “What makes you think I would lie to you about that?”

For the sheer idiocy of that question, the tall German gave him two hard swats to his sit spots, one on each side. **SMACK! SMACK!**

“Yes. And because, Robert, you are the same mulish troublemaker that saw fit to convince me that ‘you were just fine’ and that ‘you could handle the spoon’ on our last night at Stalag 13. **Despite** the fact that you could barely get out of the bed and walk to the bathroom, you harassed me all day concerning the matter!”

When he recalled the memory, Klink frowned and delivered two more spanks to that same area. **SMACK! SMACK!**

The difference between these and the two other ones was that these two were especially firm. He’d known very well that Hogan would not have been able to handle any sort of punishment on that occasion, as he’d proven with the few swats he’d given to Hogan with his hand that evening.

As he’d done earlier, Hogan yowled and started squirming somewhat. This wasn’t pleasant at all, and the only comfort he currently had was knowing that this would end with him being completely forgiven for everything.

“OWW, OWWW, OWWWWW! I’m – OW! – not mulish. – OW! – I just – OWW, OWW! – wanted to get – OWW, OW! – this over – OWWW! – with that night! OWWWW, OWWWWW!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Geez, his butt was quickly being toasted already. The last time he’d been the unfortunate recipient of the ruler, it hadn’t hurt this much. Then again, he’d only had his butt warmed up slightly with it that night too. His emotional release had come in the form of the belt instead.

Luckily, the German general decided to switch the focus back to his buttcheeks again, and he let out an audible sigh of relief despite the situation he was in.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

With a smirk, he replied, “Whatever you say, Robert. And are you doing alright?” While he knew what a sigh sounded like, it was a rather unusual sound for Hogan to make during a punishment. Afterwards, certainly. But during the main event, no.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWW, OWWW! Yeah, as – OW! – best as – OWWW! – I – OW! – can be right – OWW! – now, I guess,” his former senior POW officer gritted out. “OWWW! I’m – OWWIE! – just glad – OWWW! – you – OWWW! – aren’t swatting my – OWWWIE! – sit spots – OWW! – anymore, sir. OWWWIE!” he admitted as he blushed red from the shame of admitting that.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWW, OWWWWIE!” he added, his tail feeling like a well-done piece of meat still over a high flame from the pain. “You – OWWWWW! – were saying – OWWWIE, OWWWWIE! – before? OWWWIE, OWWWWIE!” he cried, unable able to even remotely hold still any longer.

“I…stop moving around so much, Robert!” Klink ordered as he tightened his grip on the squirming American. “I realize that this hurts quite a bit. But it will hurt a lot more if I strike you somewhere that I do not mean to, simply because **you** moved!”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWIE, OWWWWIE, OWWWWWWIE! I’m trying to, but please!” Hogan begged as his eyes began to water, unable to hold out much longer as he continued to thrash around. “OWWWW! Please, please stop! OWWW! **Please,** I’ve learned my lesson. I swear, I’ll be good! OWWWWWIE! I promise, sir, I **promise!** Just **please!** OWWWWWW!”

The older man managed to tune out the begging he was hearing, but it wasn’t easy. It took a great deal of focus to temporarily harden his heart to the sorrowful cries of his brat. But he would be sure to provide some much-needed comfort after all of this, that was guaranteed.

“I cannot, Robert, and you know it. Anyhow, the second time was when I bared your bottom while you stood in the corner,” he explained patiently.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“I glanced at it then to be certain there were no marks of any type left on your behind. As I saw nothing there, I felt it was safe to continue with on your punishment. I checked again once you were over my lap to be sure of that, as you had jumped when I had merely given you a gentle pat there prior to that point,” he added, keeping an eye on his target so that he wouldn’t go too far.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“And finally, I made absolutely sure of it once more after you placed yourself back over my lap. As you can see, I have always looked out for you, Robert,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. “Even if I am certain that you are not overly appreciative of such a gesture at the moment. And I will continue to do so for as long as I am able to. You can be very certain of it.”

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

While the younger general appreciated the explanation, he also knew that his old nemesis the lava had arrived.

That being said, he knew he was very close to that emotional release as he continued to beg for leniency. “OWWWWIE! OWWWWIE, OWWWIE, OWWWW! Sir, I’m **sorry!** I **promise** you, I’m sorry! Just please, stop…stop…stop punishing meeeeeee! OWWWWIE!” he wailed pitifully.

Right on schedule, he tipped over the emotional ledge and began to sob. Damn it all if his tail wasn’t in agonizing pain, but at least it was all over now. While that should have made him ecstatic, he had a nagging feeling that he was missing something fairly obvious about the whole thing. Yet he paid it no mind, choosing instead to lie there and cry himself out.

**_ Aftercare and some bad news… _ **

Klink shook his head as he tossed the ruler off to the side, where neither he nor Hogan would step on it when they eventually got up to go to bed. He wasn’t happy about what he felt was needed once he had managed to calm his troublemaker down. In addition to that, his bottom was already red from the wooden implement, so he’d have to change where the focus was for the next round.

But first things first. He rubbed the former senior POW officer’s back, making sure to use the familiar circle motions he always used as he talked.

“Sssh, sssh. Sssh, Robert, it is okay. Please calm yourself down, because I need to tell you something important. Sssh,” the tall German soothed him.

Meanwhile, he was steeling himself to do what needed to be done. He half-wished he hadn’t made the promise to never lie or joke about his friend’s punishments to him, because it was quickly becoming an annoying trap that he’d caught himself in. Still, an officer never broke their word to anyone, and what was done was done.

After a few minutes, Hogan was able to talk again, though he still hiccupped occasionally. “What is it, sir? Are –” He hiccupped a few times before attempting his question again. “Are we even for everything now?”

With a world-weary sigh, the former _Kommandant_ replied, “Er…no. That is what I needed to tell you,” he announced sadly. Yet before he could continue his explanation, the American general reacted to what he’d just been told.

Hogan felt his stomach bottom out when he heard those words. “Did you say ‘no’?” he whispered, unable to believe his ears. Klink had never lied to him before about all of this, so what had changed?

He didn’t know whether to feel betrayed or just pissed off as he squirmed and tried to get off of the older officer’s lap. Not that he was making any progress in that respect, but at least he was trying!

“But you promised we **would** be after this was over with! So that means that you lied to me,” he said accusingly, finally settling on pissed off.

“Let me go! I trusted you to keep your word, and you **lied** instead of being honest about your plans from the start! How could you do that?” Despite his anger, his voice of reason was repeating that there was still something that he was missing.

Abruptly, his mood changed into feeling betrayed instead as he subsequently asked, “Why, Wilhelm? I’ve always cooperated with you on this, even when I didn’t want to. And I told you the day that the war ended that I’d submit to whatever punishment you thought was fair. There was no need to lie about it, to give me false hope. I would’ve still complied with your final decision anyway,” he finished with a heart-wrenching sob.

Well, fuck. Now Klink had to clear up their current miscommunication before they went any further. And the first step was offering an explanation while attempting to keep his temper under control. While he could appreciate where his troublemaker was coming from, that didn’t mean it was true. And he abhorred being called a liar to boot.

“Robert, I did not lie to you. So I would appreciate it if you did not accuse me of such a thing,” he said through gritted teeth. “You merely cut me off before I could properly explain everything to you.”

“Bullshit!” Hogan responded fiercely as he wiped away the tears in his eyes.

Why was he crying this much over being lied to? He didn’t know, but he felt as if his world had been shattered. Though what he didn’t understand was **why** he felt that way. It’s not like this was the first time anybody had deceived him, but this felt different somehow.

“How do you figure that? If what you’re saying is really true, then explain it to me. Because I’m not understanding where you’re coming from,” he demanded angerly.

“I am trying to do exactly that, but you need to be quiet before I can!” the German general snapped at him, ignoring the curse word in favor of clearing up the current issue.

Once the former senior POW officer had fallen silent, he cleared his throat so he could speak. “Ahem. As I was saying before, I did not lie to you, Robert. I have not – and will **never** – lie to you. About anything, not just your punishments,” he added. “I do not believe in lying. It is far too much work. Then one must remember to whom they told the lies to, not to mention what they were.”

He kept a tight grip on his friend, who had stopped squirming long enough to hear the reason behind what had caused their misunderstanding. “If you recall correctly, I did not say when this was over with, meaning this **particular** spanking. I said when your **punishment** is all the way over with. I cannot help it if you wrongfully assumed that everything is completely done when it is not. There is still one more round to go for you tonight,” Klink informed him with a slow shake of the head.

Hogan digested the explanation that he was being given. On one hand, it was good to know that the former _Kommandant_ hadn’t lied to him. Yet the fact that he was supposed endure another round of spanking when his butt was already this sore made his stomach clench uncomfortably. After looking around the room to give himself a change of scenery, he saw the ruler on the floor. And seeing the wooden tool revealed to him the reasoning behind the persistent nagging feeling he continued to have.

Feeling somewhat dumb for missing that little detail earlier, he asked slowly, “One more round? With what? Didn’t you already use both implements?” he questioned, getting a bad feeling about what the answer would be. While he wasn’t sure if he preferred a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer right now, it wasn’t going to end well either way. As if in agreement with the stray thought, his rear end pulsed furiously.

Thankfully, the American general seemed to be catching on to what he was trying to say as he calmed down. _Which is a good thing,_ Klink determined as he spoke again. “I am afraid not, Robert.”

With a small shrug, he added, “I have only used the ruler so far. I have not touched the spoon since I sat it next me. But to answer your question though, that is what will be used next. Do you have any other concerns before we begin again?”

“Y-yes,” Hogan stammered, his clenched stomach doing backflips now.

“Why, sir? Why would you cause that emotional release with only the ruler if you intended on using the spoon on me as well? I still don’t understand,” he confessed, blowing out a breath of hot air.

“I did not tell you earlier about all of this, as it was not what I had planned on when the night began. Had I followed my original course of action, we would not be having this conversation right now,” the older man informed him.

“While I detest telling you this, **you** are the one who made things worse for yourself, Robert. I did warn you in the bathroom what you were doing, you know. Yet you kept on being uncooperative at every turn, nevertheless. Beyond that, this is a finale of sorts. A finale **is** supposed to be the most intensive part of anything,” he pointed out.

“I –” Hogan opened his mouth to complain, only to quickly shut it again. He had been warned, that was true. But damnmit, that soap had tasted disgusting! Was he just supposed to sit there and meekly take it without any complaint at all? Apparently so.

His feelings were all over the place presently, bouncing between anger and frustration. Yet when he went to voice his opinion on the subject, he remembered that Klink had told him that the mouth-soaping was on behalf of his parents as well, which made things a lot more complicated. And after taking everything into account, he had exactly two choices the way he saw it.

Option number one: suck it up like the adult he was and weather the remainder of his punishment. Seeing as he didn’t want to leave his new friend forever, the idea had a lot of merit.

Yes, he was still pinned down and unable to move right now. But he also knew if he stated his intentions to pack up and move out, the tall German would let him up without a fight. After all, Klink had been willing to never see him again after three days the night the war had ended, and all because the German officer didn’t want to cause a potential rift between him and his family/friends.

Option number two: Leave, as in permanently leave. Move out of this house, leave Germany altogether, and return to the United States. That idea had some merit too, although not as much as option number one. Furthermore, there were several problems he’d have if he went that route.

First and foremost, the Army Air Force had stationed him in **this** country. He had an important job to do here as soon as his new orders came through, which the government was trusting him to do. So if he left Germany permanently without being told to do it, he’d have to resign from his command first to avoid being labelled a deserter. And while the United States military generally didn’t shoot deserters, he’d heard what had happened to Private Eddie Slovik at the end of January. He couldn’t say he was keen on the idea of being shot for desertion as well. _Not the way I want to end my career,_ he thought.

As the officer leading their espionage/sabotage ring, London had been the ones to inform him originally about the Army private. They’d wanted him to be on his guard in case he tried to masquerade as an escaped POW and request assistance from the Unsung Heroes. They’d also thought to tell him when Slovik had been executed, ensuring that he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

He didn’t want to leave the military, damn it. Like he’d told his mom, he was a career officer, and he enjoyed serving his country. Leaving also meant that he’d be out of a job, which meant no income of any kind. Hell, he might not even be **able** to leave Germany if they thought he’d deserted, since he didn’t have a passport. The only identification he had on him was a military ID, which was used in its place. Besides that, said ID had both his name and picture on it. It’s not like he could deny who he was when the proof was right there in black and white!

Second of all, he no longer had an apartment – or anywhere else – to live in the United States, as he’d given his termination notice before they’d left Connecticut. That meant that he’d be homeless, unless his parents let him move back home. Not exactly something he wanted to do with his fortieth birthday coming up in a few months.

If he did **that,** he harbored no doubts that his mother would bust his ass anyway. She’d specifically ordered him to _“listen to Wilhelm”,_ after all. Plus, they now knew how effective this sort of discipline was, which meant he’d probably find himself back in the same situation he was in currently. And when she learned of why he’d left and the hurt feelings he’d caused by doing it, he’d be in a world of trouble. He hated to admit it, but that last statement was assuredly a ‘when’, not an ‘if’, as his mom had a way of prying information out of him.

Well, shit. The second option was definitely out. There was no way he was going to destroy his career, become a deserter, piss off his parents **and** inevitably leave the man he cared so much about. _As a friend!_ _Just as a friend_ , he added hastily in his head.

It would make Klink feel terrible, like he’d done something wrong. That he could say with almost complete certainty. He’d worked so hard to prove to the older general and his family that he wasn’t the typical jackass most Germans seemed to view the American people as. If he opted to leave now, it would only make him a liar and prove that he couldn’t be trusted.

If there was one thing Robert Hogan wasn’t, it was a liar. The whole Unsung Heroes operation and everything to do with it aside, he was a very honest man. Besides, it would destroy any faith his adopted nephews had in Americans as well. There was no way in hell he would do that to them!

In addition to everything else, he’d already promised that he would submit to whatever punishment the former _Kommandant_ felt was fair. Come to think of it, he’d been trusting his friend to not permanently damage him in any way since their whole arrangement had begun.

The tall German had never broken his word in that regard, and he had never been cruel about this either. If anything, he’d gone out of his way to **avoid** causing him, Hogan, any unnecessary pain. So, it seemed as if there was only one thing he could do. He didn’t have to like it – that wasn’t part of his promise – but he had to do it.

At long last, he sighed heavily before he began to talk. “You know, my butt hurts so much already that I don’t think it can get much worse than it is now. I’d like to move on to other, more pleasant things…so just do it, sir,” he said reluctantly.

Meanwhile, Klink had been sitting there quietly while all of this was going through Hogan’s mind. He had no way to know what the former senior POW officer was thinking, of course. Yet he’d observed that his troublemaker had been silent for nearly five minutes, a record for the normally talkative American. While he was relieved when the younger general had finally spoken, he had to be sure everything was still okay between them.

“You are sure?” he asked, his voice betraying the hesitation in his tone. “You were very quiet for a long time, and that is highly unusual for you. I do not want to cause a problem between us, Robert. At the same time, I am only doing what you requested of me after the war ended. It does put me in a bit of a bind.”

Hogan blew out a long breath and nodded his head slightly. “Unfortunately, yeah. As it stands right now, I really wish I weren’t. But it’s still my best option overall, and I can tell you more about that later on if you want. For now, let’s get on with it.”

“Being as you are certain of your decision, I will,” the older officer responded quietly.

Then he grabbed the spoon and added, “Your bottom is already red, so this should not take too long. I will make this spanking as quick as possible, alright?”

“Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you for not drawing it out,” Hogan replied softly as he shut his eyes, touched by the thoughtful kindness and consideration Klink showed to him even now. He didn’t deserve a friend like that, not when he acted such a jerk continuously to the tall German. Really, he didn’t.

**_ Wiping the slate clean, part two… _ **

“You are welcome, Robert. Here we go again,” the former _Kommandant_ told him as he raised the spoon and brought it down on the tender sit spots repeatedly.

He’d decided to focus on that area this time while he was calming his brat down from the previous round, so that this punishment could be sped up. Besides, he’d mostly focused on the buttcheek area prior to this.

Being as the younger man’s behind was still very sore, it got an immediate reaction.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

Hogan’s eyes flew open as the spoon made its first impact, causing him to squeal in pain. “OWWWWWWIE! That hurts so bad!”

He didn’t know how long he was going to last, given the fact that his tail had already been pretty well-tenderized by the ruler. And the only other time he’d experienced the spoon, it’d been the first thing that he’d been spanked with. “OWWWW, OWWWWIE, OWWWWIE!”

Even back then, it’d been pretty painful. Each swat had felt like two, due to the plastic snap-back effect that the spoon had. Of course, the holes in it had only added to the painful effect.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWW, OWWWWWW! Have mercy, sir! Please, it hurts so much,” he said desperately. He was doing his utmost best to hold still, but it was a battle he was quickly losing. And the sharp smacks to his sit spots weren’t helping his cause any, either!

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!** **SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWIE, OWWWW! Please, I’m **sorry!** I’ll listen to you from now on, I promise! Sir, I **promise!** ”

He’d honestly tried to hold still, but he’d also ultimately lost the battle. Once he realized that, he begun to squirm around again, grateful that he couldn’t move very much due to the secure hold he was in.

On his end, this was quite possibly one of the worst things Klink had ever had to do to the American. He resolved that from now on, any punishments that required this level of correction would be divided up into two different ones. That way, neither one of them would have to experience this ever again.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He wasn’t the sadistic type, and it was killing him to not throw the blasted spoon across the room and beg for Hogan’s forgiveness instead. Yet the last time he’d tried to be merciful about this type of thing, it had provoked a fight between them. Instead, he used the memory as ammunition to harden his heart as he continued the punishment.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWWWWE, OWWWWIE, OWWWWIE! I’m **sorry!** OWWWW! Please, I’m **begging** you! OWWWIE, OWWWW! Whatever you want, sir, I’ll do it! OWWWW, OWWW, OWWWWWW! Just stop! OWWWWIE! I can’t take it, **please!** ” the younger officer pleaded.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

He was still hanging on, if just by a thread. But when one swat struck a particularly sensitive part of his sit spots, that thread was cut. It caused him to let out a scream of utter agony, followed by tipping over that emotional edge again.

**SMACK!**

“OWWWWWWIE! Stop, stoooooop!” he cried out as he started bawling again. Then he let himself ride the emotional tidal wave for the second time tonight, And all the while, he was praying to whoever could hear his thoughts that they were square now.

**_ Comfort and explanations… _ **

Heaving a sigh of utter disgust with himself, Klink chucked the plastic tool across the room near the ruler. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure if Hogan would be receptive to the idea. If he wasn’t, that was fine. Not ideal, but fine. He could still comfort his friend. But this way was far better, in his mind.

The first thing he did was help the tearful American get to his feet. Then he made sure that his former senior POW officer could stand up on his own – without swaying unsteadily – before placing two pillows on his lap. Even as he opened his arms, Hogan backed up a few steps away from him.

“Robert, please come over here,” he requested softly.

Being as he was still reeling in the unexpected second release he’d gotten tonight, his ears hadn’t caught up to what his eyes were seeing. That being the case, he thought that the German general still wasn’t through spanking him yet when he’d said ‘please come here’. And needless to say, the idea made him highly agitated. So he took yet another step backward, shaking his head rapidly.

“Please, no. Don’t spank me anymore tonight! Please, **please!** ” he said with a frantic shake of his head as panic rose up inside him. “I’ve learned my lesson! I **swear,** I really have!”

“I am going to do no such thing,” Klink informed him adamantly as he held his arms open. “I only want to comfort you, should you choose to let me. I can promise you, nothing else will happen tonight,” he explained as it occurred to him that maybe Hogan wouldn’t accept his offer.

“I only wanted to hold you while I did so, like I did that night at Stalag 13. I feel it offers far more comfort. But I understand why you do not want to,” he added with a crestfallen look as he dropped his arms.

With a sad sigh, he closed his eyes. “ **I** would not want to go near me, had I been through everything you have suffered tonight. Thus, I cannot blame you for feeling that way, and I harbor no hard feelings toward you in this matter.”

Even though he was still crying heavily and was quite upset, a small part of his compassion forced its way through to give him a short message.

_Rob, he only wanted to comfort you. So go to Wilhelm,_ it insisted stubbornly. _Don’t make him feel bad for doing what **you** asked him to do._

Letting out something that was a cross between a sigh and shuddery gasp, Hogan slowly walked the few steps back to the sofa. Once he’d gotten there, he tapped his friend on the arm lightly and waited for his eyes to open.

“I…I didn’t realize what you were trying to do at first, or I would’ve done it a lot sooner. Is…is the offer still open?” he asked hesitantly as he hiccupped a few times.

Klink managed a faint smile and a small nod at the unexpected question. “For you, Robert? Always,” he replied, making sure the pillows wouldn’t slide around. “Come here.”

Then he helped the American carefully sit on the pillows, both of them wincing at the hiss of pain he uttered. Once Hogan was situated, the tall German locked his arms tightly around his former senior POW officer and said, “Before we have any further miscommunications, I want you to know that your punishment is completely over, and all those transgressions are forgiven now. You did so well,” he soothed, rubbing circles on the younger man’s back.

“You impress me every day with how strong you are, little one. I do not know where you draw all of your strength from, but it is amazing nevertheless,” Klink confessed.

“For that matter, I do not know how you always manage to remain so strong. I could not do what you have done. I…well, I simply cannot put my feelings about that into words,” he added with a shrug.

Hogan had only heard the words ‘little one’ from the former _Kommandant_ a few times before. While he didn’t mind ‘brat’ or ‘troublemaker’ either, he decided that he liked this term far more. It was a shock to realize just what he’d been through tonight when he added everything up, since there was quite a bit going on with him right now.

He’d been thoroughly spanked – and he definitely meant ‘thoroughly’ – on his bare bottom to the point of tears tonight. Not just once, but twice. He was still crying somewhat, with his butt still bared. To top it all off, he was sitting on some pillows on Klink’s lap like a well-chastised little kid.

By all rights, he should’ve been humiliated beyond all reason. Yet he found that he wasn’t. In fact, he felt oddly content instead.

_Is it too much to ask that I just spend the rest of my life here, on Wilhelm’s lap? Because as weird as it seems, I’ve never been more at peace than I am right now,_ he thought.

Wanting the close proximity he’d had with the older man the night that the war ended, Hogan leaned his head against his chest. And after hesitating for a few seconds, he embraced his friend as tightly as he could.

“I couldn’t tell you, sir. Sometimes I wish I knew myself, because it’d be some helpful knowledge to have,” he responded after his tears had ceased flowing. “I know you’re part of it, though.”

Klink was thrilled that his former senior POW officer felt comfortable enough to embrace him. Hell, he was happy that his brat was relaxed enough to lean his head against his, Klink’s, chest. But he had to ask the question on his mind.

“Me? How could **I** possibly be a part of how you draw strength in any way? I am not a brave man, Robert,” he informed him.

“Aren’t you? You’ve managed to survive two World Wars, sir,” responded Hogan with a shrug before he snuggled closer to his friend, taking advantage of not having to appear perfectly in control for the moment.

“And you ran the only POW camp in Germany with zero escapes, not to mention stood up to the Gestapo a few times. I’d say that’s pretty brave,” he pointed out.

“I survived both World Wars, that is true. Even if I did only survive the second one because I was running a prisoner of war camp for most of it. But everything else was due to your influence, troublemaker,” his self-appointed disciplinarian replied.

“Little one,” his brat corrected.

“Little one?” Klink repeated in a bewildered tone. “I do not understand.”

“I like the term ‘little one’, better. Not all the time, mind you. But at least for tonight, if you don’t mind,” the younger general informed him, using a cautious tone when he talked.

With that said, he took one of the German officer’s slender hands and placed it on top of his head, the fingertips resting near the part of his hair that laid on his forehead.

Klink smiled as he acknowledged the unspoken request, beginning to toy with Hogan’s hair as he spoke. “Very well, then. Everything else was due to your influence, **little one,** ” he amended with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” Hogan responded with a smile, enjoying the feeling of having his hair played with as he gave the older man a quick squeeze.

“But standing up to the Gestapo had nothing to do with me, sir. That was purely the Iron Eagle,” he said in a serious tone of voice.

“As for the camp’s record, I’ll admit **that** part was all my doing. But you couldn’t have known that I’d always keep you safe. Even given the situation, you had to have been on edge every time the brass got mad at you. And I know that you had to have wondered each time if I’d bail you out of trouble, or if this would be the time that I’d leave you to hang. Heck, I know **I** would’ve felt like that if it’d been me. Just the fact that you didn’t defect says a lot about your courage,” he added.

“I –” _What am I supposed to say to that? Why does Robert always manage to leave me speechless?_ the tall German pondered.

“I would never defect,” he finally said. “I follow an officer’s code of honor. As you know, that means you do not merely disappear to save your own skin and leave your men behind. That code of honor is also why I could not accept your generous offer to become an ‘official’ member of the Army Air Force. I thought about it, do not misunderstand me. But I would not be able to live with myself if I had,” he admitted.

“True,” the American general allowed. “I’d kinda figured that might be the case, but I felt like it didn’t hurt to offer anyhow. There are times when I’m too close to the situation, and I misread either it or the people involved. Sometimes I even forget the important details in the heat of the moment. I did that earlier, you know.”

“What do you mean, Robert?” his friend inquired curiously, wondering what that was supposed to mean. “I know that previously when I asked you if you were serious about me continuing the punishment, you mentioned something about ‘you really wished that you were not, but it was still your best option.’ You also said that you could tell me more about it later on.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Hogan asked, “So I take it you want to know what I was talking about when I said that. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Klink didn’t trust himself to say more than the one word right now while he waited to hear what his former senior POW officer had been thinking earlier.

The younger man nodded and recapped the thoughts that had been going through his head prior to his spanking with the spoon to Klink. As he finished them up, his jaw was set in a hard line when he spoke.

“As you can see, I really had no options at all. My own situation with my parents aside, I wasn’t about to do that to my nephews, and I **sure** wasn’t going to do it to you. But illusions are nice things while they last, aren’t they?” he said.

With a shrug, he added, “And besides, I’m the one that asked you to do this to me. It’d hardly be fair if I weaseled out of it when the situation got tough. That just wouldn’t be right.”

The former _Kommandant_ stilled, his hand dropping to his side as he quit toying with his brat’s hair. He was processing all of this information that he’d been told, and it made him want to cry. Well, that simply wouldn’t do.

If nothing else, they’d be quite the pair if they both sat here and became all emotional like that. He was a general in the _Luftwaffe,_ damnmit! Generals weren’t supposed to cry at the drop of a hat like a woman would. It just wasn’t manly.

But his emotions weren’t listening to the rational part of him at all, and to his horror, he felt his own eyes begin to water. _No, no, no! Stop it, Wilhelm!_ he screamed at himself. _Get it together!_ Was he getting emotional just because his troublemaker had remembered what he’d said before? Or because he was obviously a major factor in Hogan’s decisions? This was not acceptable.

Hogan felt the slender hand drop away from his head, so he turned to look at his self-appointed disciplinarian questioningly. “Sir? Are –”

He cut himself off as he took in both the expression of sorrow on Klink’s face and the silent tears. _Oh, hell. What’d I say?_ he thought as he reached up to wipe a tear away with his thumb.

“Hey, hey. Don’t be greedy. Only one of us gets to have an emotional breakdown per night, and I was already on the schedule. You’ll just have to wait in line,” he joked in an attempt to make his friend feel better.

Normally, that would’ve worked. He was a smart-ass with plenty of wit, and usually his jokes could at least trigger a faint smile. But not tonight. Frowning, he considered the problem thoughtfully before he crossed his arms and huffed loudly, as if he was annoyed. **That** had always worked before, therefore it should work again.

Or not. It was as if the older man didn’t see him for some reason, which was a huge issue considering that he was as close to him as two people could possibly be. With a sigh, he removed Klink’s arms from around him and gingerly got to his feet.

His butt was in complete agony, but like he’d done with his stomach in the fight with Wolfgang, he ignored it. He had a far bigger problem currently, and that was figuring out what had his friend so distressed. Then he pulled the tall German to his feet, almost falling backward when he met with no resistance at all.

As he guided them both towards Klink’s room, it occurred to him how strange it was to be the person offering comfort instead of receiving it. He remembered the night he’d first been spanked with the hairbrush, and how the older general had gone out of his way to provide quality aftercare for him when all was said and done. Thus, he was definitely going to take this opportunity to repay the favor.

It was slow going, but they eventually reached Klink’s room, with Hogan guiding his self-appointed disciplinarian towards the bed. While he wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he had them situated, he knew he’d better think of something quick. Thankfully, he worked so well off-the-cuff, or he’d have been screwed long before now.

They stopped by the bed, and the younger officer pulled back the blankets for them. “Go on, Wilhelm,” Hogan told him with a gentle nudge. “I’ll be right behind you, but you have to get into the bed first. Besides, this position is a little bit easier for me to talk to you in then the one I was previously in.”

Klink only nodded silently and obeyed the directive, making sure he scooted over so that his brat could lie beside him. The silent tears still flowed as he wrapped his arms around his middle tightly, staring off into space.

The American already knew that his rear end was going to scream at him for what he was about to do later on, but he didn’t care. Making sure no expression of pain showed on his face, he slipped into the bed as well and tucked them in under the blankets. Being as he was laying on his side, he’d be hurting come morning for sure.

He positioned himself right next to the German general and tossed a leg over him like he’d done the evening London had delivered the package to him. Afterwards, he pried the older officer’s arms free from his midsection and draped them over his own loosely, giving the former _Kommandant_ the chance to put them wherever was comfortable for him. Then Hogan wrapped him in a tight hug, making sure that one hand rubbed soothing circles on his back while he whispered soothing words to his friend.

To be perfectly candid, he didn’t have a clue if any of what he was doing was correct. But he knew that these things worked to make him feel better, and the example that he’d always been shown was all he had to go on.

“Sssh, sssh. Sssh, Wilhelm. I don’t know what’s wrong with you right now, but it’s okay. Honestly, it really is. Just let whatever it is you’re feeling out, and you can talk to me about it when you’re ready,” the former senior POW officer offered awkwardly. “Um, I mean if you want to. You don’t have to, of course. But it’d help me to understand why you’re so upset.”

Damnmit, he didn’t have experience dealing with this type of thing! He only wished he knew what had brought all of this on. Had he said something offensive? He didn’t think he had, but he knew that he tended to shoot off at the mouth sometimes. And while he recognized that not everything revolved around him, he’d been the last one to say something before all of this had happened. So to him, that meant that he’d screwed up somewhere.

Meanwhile, Klink felt like the most useless individual in the history of mankind. He’d only been trying to offer his remorseful troublemaker some comfort before they had any serious conversations. That much he’d been doing decently well with.

Then Hogan had gone and told him what had been on his mind before he’d received the second round of his punishment. Those thoughts, along with his own tension as of lately, appeared to have triggered an unwanted breakdown.

What kind of person was he to cause another one such pain and then let this type of thing happen? Now his friend was in the awkward position of comforting **him** when it should be the other way around!

He focused on wiping his eyes so that he could see, but it was doing little good with his monocle fogging up. And when his brat had pulled him to his feet, he hadn’t offered any resistance. 

When they’d gotten to the bedroom, he’d set his monocle on the nightstand so that it wouldn’t rust before he’d felt the nudge and heard the request. It’s not like he could see out of it right now anyway, and this way it wouldn’t get broken.

Then he’d followed the request, since he needed the time to pull himself together. And he’d almost managed to achieve his goal when the American had pulled his arms free of his, Klink’s, stomach and draped them over his own body instead.

The simple gesture had set off a new wave of tears, and Hogan rubbing his back wasn’t helping them to stop. If anything, it was making him feel worse about putting the younger officer into such a precarious position.

And did he have to make those soothing sounds as well? While he appreciated the thought, it wasn’t helping him to calm down. So he tried to move away, needing the distance between them to get his bearings.

Hogan could feel Klink trying to curl up into a ball under his hands, so he made sure his leg was securely draped over the older man’s body before tightening his grip.

“Uh-uh, nope. You can be upset or whatever. That’s perfectly fine, because we can work this out together. But don’t push me away, sir,” he requested. “I’m trying to help you, but you’ve gotta work with me here. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Why?” Klink inquired bitterly after a minute or two, once he’d found his voice. “I am not worth your time, and I have caused you nothing but misery. It seems like I cannot do anything right, but that is the story of my life. I have been a terrible friend to you. Putting you in this uncomfortable position of having to calm me down because I cannot not keep it together does not help matters.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Hogan responded sharply, ignoring his last sentence and unwilling to hear his friend put himself down in any way.

“You do plenty of things right, I’ll have you know. And you’ve never caused me any misery, not in the sense that you’re thinking of. I’ve earned every spanking you’ve given me,” he added. Surprisingly, the childish word wasn’t bothering him for once as he talked. “I might not have been **thrilled** about getting them, but I can’t deny that they were well-deserved.”

“I do plenty of things right? That is laughable,” the older man replied with a shake of his head. “Name one.”

“I can name several. You always kept all the prisoners safe, and you trusted your senior POW officer to keep your head out of the noose every time versus arguing with me. Which, by the way, anybody else would’ve done and ended up dead for their efforts,” the younger general pointed out.

“And you’ve always treated us with respect. Heck, you heard what I told your mom and Wolfgang about all of that. I wasn’t trying to paint you as noble that night, I’ll have you know. I was just describing the situation as I saw – and still do – see it.”

The German appeared to be unconvinced of what he’d been told so far. “That is all part of being a decent human being, Robert. I was merely doing my job. If there is nothing more one can say about me than I managed to do a job correctly, it only proves my point,” he said glumly.

“Well, you've also been nice enough to offer me stress relief in the form of these spankings as well,” Hogan added with a shrug. “What I’m trying to figure out is what made you so upset all of a sudden. Did I offend you somehow?” he asked, wanting to cross that possibility off the list.

“No, little one. You did nothing wrong in any way,” Klink told him firmly.

“I do not fully know why I am so upset tonight. All I know is you informed me of what you had been thinking about earlier in the evening, and then **this** happens,” he said, motioning to himself and sounding disgusted. “It is despicable. A German officer should not be having this sort of breakdown!”

“Hey, you might’ve just hit the nail on the head, sir,” the former senior POW officer said thoughtfully. “A breakdown. That’d explain a lot, now that I think about it.”

“Would you care to explain what you are talking about? As is normally the case, I am not following your train of thought,” his self-appointed disciplinarian reluctantly admitted.

“The war. That’s what caused this to happen. War is about the most stressful situation a person can be in,” Hogan responded simply. “It even tops blackmail, because you know exactly what the terms are with a blackmailer. You know when and where the threat is coming from if you don’t satisfy their requirements, along with how long you have to follow them before it’s over. War, on the other hand, is a constant unknown to all of the above.”

He made sure to meet the older general’s eyes as he explained. “Plus, breakdowns are normal if somebody is overly stressed out. They happen all the time. You’re not the first person to suffer one. Nor will you be the last. Have you been under any stress lately that you haven’t mentioned to me?” he asked curiously.

Klink let out a caustic laugh. “You have no idea. Things were already extremely bad in Berlin by this past February. Tensions had been running high, people were snapping at one another, and still others were either defecting or committing suicide. But the day I got the news from you and Schultz – the day you both showed me the newspaper saying that Hitler was dead – it overwhelmed me. I had been a loyal member of the _Luftwaffe,_ fighting this war under the promise of a new and better Germany. And out of nowhere, it was all gone,” he whispered.

“I did not know what to do. I was well aware that you were the only one of my prisoners who would not immediately shoot me if offered a loaded gun and the chance to do it. In addition to that, I knew the Allied forces would arrive shortly to liberate Stalag 13. That is why you saw me pacing while you were talking to General Patton. I recalled what you had said before, which was that you would keep me safe. But I also recalled that you had mentioned nothing of the sort regarding my men. _Leutnant_ Schultz and I may not always agree on things, but he is a good man. So is Corporal Langenscheidt. And many of the others are as well. That is why I snapped at you that day, Robert,” he finished with a guilty expression.

Hogan used his index finger to push one corner of the former _Kommandant’s_ mouth up, mimicking part of the motion needed to smile. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. How could I expect you to take me at my word? You didn’t know about any of this yet, and surely a mere prisoner couldn’t do everything I’d promised you I would do, right? No hard feelings,” he said with a nod.

“Besides, you made me an offer a long time ago to listen if I needed someone to vent to. And if I remember correctly, you also –”

He cut himself off abruptly, his eyes widening in horror when he remembered the other part of that conversation. Grabbing a nearby pillow, he pulled back the blankets as if he were going to get out of the bed.

Forcing his voice to sound calm, he said, “Hang on just a minute.” Then he put the pillow to his face with one hand as he lifted the other one and reached behind him.

**SMACK! SMACK!** He smacked his still-bare butt twice, making sure they were hard swats.

“OWW, OWW!” The pillow muffled the screams of pain he let out though, which was good since he didn’t want to hurt the German’s ears or make him feel worse. After lowering the pillow, he looked at a clearly confused Klink.

“Sorry about that,” he said causally.

His friend looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Er...why did you just do that?” He’d never seen such a thing done before, so he wondered could’ve possibly what had sparked it.

“Penance,” the American general informed him in a rancorous tone of voice. “I'm so sorry for letting you down, sir. I just now remembered that I never **once** offered to let you vent to me, even though you lent an ear to make sure that I could do it quite a few times.”

He shook his head, utterly hating himself right now. “But meanwhile, I've been a selfish jerk. I deserve every swat I just received from you – and a whole lot more – for not even considering your needs. Obviously, **I'm** the one who’s a terrible friend, not you.”

“Robert, that is not true. You are the most loyal friend anyone could ask for,” Klink insisted stubbornly. “In any event, you **did** have an operation to run. I could hardly expect you to be able to drop whatever it was that you were doing to just to lend an ear to me, your warden. Even if I did not know what was going on at the time, that changes nothing.”

“Yeah? I saw the endless piles of paperwork you were always doing, and I’d have thought that you’d want to relax in the evening. Yet you sure managed to find the time to correct me anyway, to give **me** a chance to decompress,” Hogan responded with a bleak sigh.

“Trust me, I had support at every turn for what I was doing. London, my team...I had people out the wazoo to lean on and ask for help if I needed it. Besides that, the only reason **I** would've ever gotten shot is if I was found outside the wire, which I knew was a risk each time I did it. Come to think of it, I knew what the risk was before I ever came here and took command of my team,” he added.

“But you? Officially, you had nobody but yourself, and you always had random Gestapo visits to deal with on top of everything else. We both know how trigger-happy and hot-tempered they can be. And unofficially, you had me. That’s it. I should've been there for you as well, but I wasn't. All the support **I** had to lean on, and yet I couldn't be bothered to make sure you were doing okay too.”

Then he grabbed the pillow again and gave himself two more swats again on his behind, making sure these ones were exceptionally hard. **SMACK! SMACK!**

“OWW, OWW!” The pillow muffled the shrieks of pain as it had before, but his tail was throbbing even more angrily then it had been previously.

“Stop doing that, or you will permanently injure yourself!” the tall German admonished.

“So?” his troublemaker retorted with a look of antipathy aimed towards himself. “It might knock me down a peg or two. Someone’s who’s permanently injured couldn’t possibly be as cocky as I always am, right?”

Klink looked at him in disbelief and replied, “What do you mean, ‘so?’ We have been through this before, and I do not want to have to discipline you because you purposely hurt yourself! I **will** give you another spanking for that nonsense – once you have fully healed, of course – if you keep this up,” he scolded.

He’d expected the warning to make his friend realize that he was being idiotic and calm himself down. But the reply he got was the last words he ever thought he’d hear out of Hogan’s mouth.

With an unwavering expression of determination, his brat asked him, “Do you promise?”

“What?” the German general asked with a baffled expression, not understanding what was being asked of him. He hadn’t promised anything recently except one thing, and he knew that his former senior POW officer wasn’t asking about that. Needless to say, he felt like he’d missed something at some point.

The younger man looked at him like he was stupid as he explained slowly, “If I manage to hurt myself, do you promise you’ll spank me for it? Because I truly feel like I deserve it right now for being a numbskull.”

Okay, maybe he **hadn’t** missed something! Klink sighed and responded, “Robert, I told you long ago if you needed such a thing, you simply had to ask me. I will always make sure that your needs are met, so long as it is in my power to do so.”

Sighing, he added, “And yes, I meant it. I would prefer **not** to have to do that, but I will if it becomes necessary.”

There was silence for a few minutes, both of the generals lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated this new layer of their friendship. As per the status quo, Hogan was the first to break the silence.

“Look, we're not going to get anywhere with this pity fest. Let's just agree that we're both terrible friends. That way, it means we’re both good friends instead. Just like in math class," he stated with a shrug.

The older man only shook his head, unwilling to even try to understand math had to do with their situation. "I shall take your word for that, Rob," he said, offering a half-smile at last.

“Hey, there's the smile I like so much! I was beginning to think I'd never see it again,” replied his former senior POW officer with another huff of mock annoyance.

The concept of Hogan huffing in annoyance because he'd thought that he'd never see him, Klink, smile again was completely ridiculous. Still, it made him break out into a full-fledged grin. “You are extremely silly sometimes. I hope you are aware of that, Robert Hogan.”

“Now tell me something that I **don’t** know,” teased Hogan with a slight nudge to his friend's shoulder. “You looked like you were trying to tell me something before our conversation derailed. Do you remember what it was?”

**_ Setting the ground rules and consequences… _ **

“Hmmm? Oh, yes. I was thinking about the rules that I needed to inform you of,” Klink told him, loosening his grip on his brat so that he could toy with his hair again. He enjoyed doing that, and if what had happened earlier had been any indication, Hogan enjoyed having it done.

“Rules, sir?” inquired the younger general curiously while he snuggled into the hug he was being given, providing silent support with his mere presence. The last thing he needed was for Klink to become upset again while they talked.

“Indeed, little one. Rules. You know, the things that you have made a habit of bending or breaking wherever you go?” the German officer asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m aware of what ‘rules’ are, thank you. Anyways, I’m listening,” said Hogan as he cocked his head.

“They are simple. We will make any and all major decisions together, for starters,” Klink began, ignoring his friend’s claim to know what rules were.

“I will keep an eye on you, as your mother requested me to do. And I will continue to discipline you whenever you misbehave. At the rate we are going, I feel confident that I will see a change in your behavior by the time I retire,” he teased.

“So, by next month then? That’s pretty ambitious, Wilhelm. Good luck with that,” Hogan replied playfully as he gave his familiar lopsided grin.

“Knock it off, Rob,” the former _Kommandant_ told him with a chuckle. “Or I will remember those words, and I will also make certain that you receive your birthday spankings as soon as the clock strikes midnight. When your birthday rolls around, of course.”

The American officer widened his eyes in mock surprise. “You mean you weren’t already planning to do that? How disappointing. And here I thought you were always prepared for anything,” he said with a laugh.

“You are not surprised that you will be receiving them this year, then?” asked Klink in a curious tone of voice.

“Nope. It’s a golden opportunity for you to get some swats in, and you’d have to be pretty dumb to turn it down. Besides, I’m gonna be forty this year. Just think of how much you could space out forty swats over the whole day,” Hogan responded cheekily.

The German general rolled his eyes at how flippant his troublemaker could be. “Your insolence appears to know no bounds, but I like it anyhow,” he stated.

“You do? You’ve complained about it often enough,” his friend asked as he raised his eyebrows.

“That may be true, but I have grown to enjoy your antics,” Klink admitted as a sly grin crossed his face. “So, when **is** your birthday?”

“October 31st, 1905,” came the prompt reply. “I’m a Halloween baby.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” murmured his self-appointed disciplinarian. “Everything else about you is unusual, so why not that too?”

“I’m not unusual, I’m just very stubborn. Stubbornness is a strong Scorpio trait, by the way,” Hogan informed him. “When’s your birthday?”

“November 1st, 1896,” Klink responded with a sheepish look. “I am a Scorpio as well.”

“That makes sense. You’re just as stubborn as I am,” said his friend playfully. “Though it does make things easier when we celebrate our birthdays. And I was just reminded of something you might be interested in knowing.”

“I am not as sure of that as you seem to be. Still, please continue,” the older man requested politely.

“Well, you just promised me that you’d give me my birthday spankings this year, right?” Hogan said as the familiar spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“Yes, I did. Your point is?” Klink inquired.

“My birthday is on Halloween, like I just told you. Do you remember when we began this arrangement?” his troublemaker asked, grinning as he waited for the puzzle pieces to click into place.

The tall German thought back to that day before he answered the question. “It was in 1944, obviously. I also believe it was in early April, if I –”

He cut himself off when he saw the knowing expression on his former senior POW officer’s face. “Your birthday occurred **after** we started it,” he breathed in surprise. “Rob, are you asking me to give you the birthday spankings that you did not get then, in addition to the ones for this year? Or did I misunderstand you somehow?”

“Nope, you got it in one,” Hogan confirmed with a nod. “That’s about the most direct request you’re going to get from me, unless something changes.”

“I can do that, I suppose,” Klink informed him after he’d thought it over. “It does mean I can space out the swats further during the day. Or all at once, should you decide to be particularly bratty when the time comes.”

The younger man nodded happily as he said, “Sounds good, but remind me to make a note for myself later on. I’ve got to remember to be extra annoying that day,” he said with a smirk.

“I shall write the reminder for you personally,” his friend stated wryly as he rolled his eyes.

“Thank you. Anyways, was that it for the rules, then?” Hogan asked.

“Yes. Do you have anything to add to them?” his self-appointed disciplinarian responded.

“Yup. I think the two of us need to find the time to take some kind of cooking class. We’re two bachelors who can barely make anything, and I like a wide variety of foods. I don’t know how to **make** them, but I know that they taste good. And I’ve got no clue at all how to make any German dishes,” the former senior POW officer said reasonably.

Klink considered that suggestion for a moment. He didn’t see how they were going to do that **and** work a full-time job, because it was impossible due to time constraints. Yet he also knew that his brat had a knack for accomplishing the impossible. “I agree with you on that subject.”

“Good. Oh, and I’ve got one more thing I’d like to ask,” Hogan added.

“Which is what?” the German general inquired.

“Well, I kind of enjoyed being able to sit down this past week, you know. It was a refreshing change. So, I’d like to know if you plan on punishing me like you did tonight for every little thing. Or if not, then what the deal is with that rule,” replied his friend.

“Not that severely for every single thing, no. Only events of major importance like we did before. Minor infractions would result in something similar to the reminder spankings you received the last few months of the war,” Klink told him.

“As I am sure you are aware, the next few years are going to be tense and uncomfortable for everyone. I want to be sure that you do not get yourself hurt by doing something foolish. As I stated previously, I am only trying to look out for you, Rob,” he added.

“That makes sense, I guess. I keep telling everybody that I don’t need a keeper,” Hogan complained as he blew a breath of air upward.

“You are correct, you do not need **a** keeper. You need a **staff** of keepers,” the former _Kommandant_ teased.

“Ha-ha. Anyways Wilhelm, I’ve got a question for you,” said the American general hesitantly.

“Go ahead and ask,” Klink responded.

“Would you mind if I stayed in here with you tonight? It’s been a long day with both of us having been put through the wringer. That being said, I’d really prefer not to be alone. And I don’t want to leave **you** alone either, because what I saw earlier really scared me,” Hogan informed him in a soft voice.

“I would not mind. That is a very good idea,” replied the older officer in a serious tone of voice, touched by the concern.

“Thanks. Besides, you know how easily I get cold,” his troublemaker added with a wink.

Klink studied his friend for a moment while he thought about a good comeback. “Are you using that same lame excuse you gave me before when you decided to become an octopus impersonator?” he deadpanned.

Hogan shrugged and asked, “That depends. Is it working?”

Rolling his eyes, his friend told him, “Yes, though I maintain my belief that you are an oddball.”

“But you know you’d be bored if I wasn’t,” the younger general teased him.

“An accurate statement, because I would be. I like how much of an oddball you are, Rob. God help me, I really do,” the tall German confessed.

“Does that mean you’d like me to do my ‘cute’ act for you again?” Hogan inquired innocently.

“Do not push it,” his self-appointed disciplinarian responded with a mock growl. “Now go to sleep, little one. You have had a hard day.”

“I can do that,” his brat mumbled as the weariness from everything sank in. “Sleep well, Wilhelm, and good night.”

“ _Gute nacht,_ Rob,” replied Klink. Then he switched off the light, letting the peacefulness of sleep overtake him.

**_ DAS ENDE DES ERSTEN TEILS _ ** ** (THE END OF PART ONE) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Private Edward Donald ‘Eddie’ Slovik was executed by firing squad for repeated desertion attempts from the United States Army on January 31st, 1945.**
> 
> **Military IDs weren’t invented until 1999, but I’m altering the time frame. Hogan had to have had something to prove who he was. I think a passport could’ve been too easily destroyed by the enemy, especially since they were made out of paper.**
> 
> **When I learned about positive and negative numbers in school, they taught us that two negative numbers balance each other out, becoming a positive number. In essence, Hogan was saying that if they’re both terrible friends to one another, that actually makes them really good friends instead. (I never said math made sense, I’m only telling you what I was taught.)**
> 
> **I know Bob Crane’s real birthday was July 13th, 1928, which makes him a Cancer. And I also know that Werner Klemperer’s real birthday was March 22nd, 1920, which makes him an Aries. But I like the idea of Hogan being born on Halloween, as well as them both being Scorpios. Scorpios are notoriously stubborn, and the two generals definitely fit the bill!**


End file.
